


A Good King - A Joffrey Baratheon SI

by Lukaay



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Good Joffrey Baratheon, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, SI, Self-Insert, good joffrey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 26,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lukaay/pseuds/Lukaay
Summary: I never really believed in life after death. Well, that was until I woke up staring at Cersei Lannister and sucking on her teet."What the fuck"





	1. Chapter 1

Death was every bit as bad as I thought it would be.

It wasn't a glamorous death. I didn't die trying to save anyone's life. In fact it was agony, while it lasted. One moment I was riding my horse round the track, the next minute I was under the horse being dragged along said track. Don't ask me how. I don't know.

But what I do know is that death should be it right? The end, no more? Turns out I'm the one who knows nothing...

Because I can tell you that if death was the end I wouldn't be staring up at the eyes of  a woman who looks exactly like Cersei Lannister. And I shouldn't be sucking on her teet.

Wait what the fuck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! If you're reading this then you are one of the very few people who will ever lay eyes on this (probably shit) story. I don't know why I'm writing this since I can't write for crap but here I am. Thanks for reading I guess :)
> 
> P.S All the knowledge I have from this universe comes straight from the TV show and fanfics I've read. I own the books but I've never read them so sorry bout that.
> 
> P.P.S I'm gonna get a lot of shit wrong like many, many details, I love the show but I can't remember all the details and order of events so sue me. If it bothers you that much don't read.
> 
> P.P.P.S Updates will be quite irregular, I only write when I feel the inspiration else the quality gets really, really bad (like worse than normal)
> 
> Ok see ya!


	2. Baby Joffrey’s Plans

The minute I realised what I was doing I started wailing, very loudly. If I'm being honest it hurt my own ears. What the fuck was I doing here? Surely I was in a coma, in some hospital bed. There's absolutely no way that I am actually here right now, in this universe of lies, deceit and murder! Game of Thrones was a TV show, a work of fiction based on books written by a great author who was probably a sadist with the amount of pain and death his characters endured.

I started panicking and would have fallen out of dream Cersei's arms had she not been holding on so tight.

"Calm sweet child, you're safe" she cooed.   
I'm ashamed to admit that baby me reacted well to this and started drifting of to sleep...

That was until a thunderous crash resounded around the room and a giant of a man stormed in carrying what appeared to be a stag in his arms. It only took me a few seconds to realise that this man was my 'father' King Robert Baratheon. 

"Cersei, show me our child!" He yelled at the top of his voice, obviously drunk. My mother's eyes went as cold as ice for a few moments before she held me out.

"Here he is, your heir, Joffrey of House Baratheon."

My 'father' looked at me for a while -a hint of something in his deep blue eyes- before a small smile lit up on his face.

"And what an heir he will be."

Time Skip

From day one people seemed to see me as an unusual child. They always used to exclaim about how I was 'marvellous' and a 'genius.' I was given a large amount of respect from the various lords and ladies at court. I used this to my advantage, managing to sit in on meetings, learning my way around what was going on around the court. For example: people were concerned about 'father' and his rather lavish spendings, and how 'mother' was just so cruel.

By age four I realised that if this world was formed in my comatose brain then I really must have been in a coma for a very long time, therefore I started really planning for the future. I realised that the Greyjoy Rebellion must be just around the corner. This worried me for a number of reasons:

1\. The Greyjoys are a real pain in the ass. They despise the other 6 kingdoms and we hate them, everyone from the Lannisters to the Starks couldn't give a shit about the Iron Islands. They will continually make my future reign hard.

2\. The whole North thing definitely made me apprehensive; I don't really want to change to much early on, at least until I become king after all the more I can keep the same then the more I can predict what will happen and adapt events to my plans. One thing I feel I can confidently change however is the Rebellion. The Greyjoys -even after the eventual loss of the Rebellion- stayed almost 100% out of mainland affairs.

So in conclusion: the Greyjoys are going to die. Every. Last. One. Of. Them...

You may be wondering why I wouldn't be yearning to save my 'father' and let him have a long and happy life. To be remembered as a glorious ruler who brought peace and prosperity to the seven kingdoms. There is an excellent reason - it wouldn't help me in the long run. I want to be a good king, and for that to happen I need my life to go (to a reasonable extent) like it did on the books. When my 'mother' pops out another incest-born bastard (namely Tommen) I will most definitely treat him much better than Joffrey in the show did. However, if Robert had a tremendous reign then when I inherit every last thing would be different. Therefore I -for now- will let Cersei fuck my 'uncle' to her hearts content. I will let Robert hire a thousand whores. I will let him drink himself into oblivion. I will even let my 'mother' kill him. And I will let her name me king.

For I Joffrey of House Baratheon, First of my Name will be the greatest King of The Andals, The Rhoynar and the First Men, the finest Lord Of The Seven Kingdoms and the most excellent Protector of the Realm. And absolutely no one will stop me!


	3. A Small Council Meeting

It turned out I was right, the Rebellion was just around the corner. Just two months after my planning began the raven from Casterly Rock came: The Lannister fleet was destroyed, now just rotten caves at the bottom of the ocean, homes for fish and algae. War had been declared, ravens sent out, bannermen called, the Seven Kingdoms were at war. 

The most annoying thing about being reborn is that you aren’t the same age as you once were. I’m no longer the 21 year old, fully fledged member of society, able to do whatever I pleased (as long as it’s legal.) No I’m now a four year old, restricted by rules, Prince of the Realm or not. 

This threw a spanner in the works. How on Earth was I supposed to convince ‘father’ to destroy the Greyjoys when he was off on the Iron lslands and I’m stuck in Kings Landing? It’s not like I could go with him. Not only was I too young to squire but even if I was old enough ‘mother’ wouldn’t let me. All the major lords would be off fighting in the war, so I couldn’t use them and ‘mother’ was about as appealing to ‘father’ as a month of celibacy so she would be unable to convince him. Suddenly though a thought came to me; there will be one more Small Council meeting before ‘father,’ ‘uncle’ and the other influential noblemen of the court leave for battle. This is probably my last chance. I just hope ‘father’ turns up... 

Time Skip 

I was the last person to walk into the council chambers. I was dressed in regal attire, as I always did when I sat in on the council meetings. I looked around and breathed a sigh of relief as I saw ‘father’ sitting in the chair reserved for the king. Everyone (except ‘father’) stood up in respect as I entered and sat down once again after I sat down on the chair that has been there -opposite to the King’s chair- since I requested to observe the meetings last year. Never before had I actually spoken at the meetings, unless asked my opinion, usually by Pycelle (probably so he could report on how capable I am to Lord Tywin.) “I still can’t believe you come to these pointless meetings” bellowed ‘father’. I could smell the wine from across the table. “I like to know what is going on, Father.” I replied in a clipped tone. I always get annoyed when I think about how Robert basically ignored the realm after he became king. ‘Counting coppers’ he called these meetings, how absurd! Because of his actions the realm descended into a tinderbox waiting to explode. The Seven Kingdoms was ruled by a bunch of inept lords.

Pycelle was a puppet for ‘grandfather’ and did whatever was in the Lannister’s interests.

Stannis was too caught up in his jealousy about not being named Lord of Storm’s End. 

Renly couldn’t care less and didn’t even control the City Watch. 

Petyr wanted to fill his own pockets and so was siphoning crown funds, hence six million gold dragons of debt. He also wanted to de-stabilise the Realm. 

And Varys wanted the Targaryens back on the throne. 

Note to self, when I inherit the throne, sort out this motherfucking small council. 

“Your Grace, we need to come up with a plan for how to deal with the Rebellion.” Began Ser Barristan. 

“Stannis, you shall begin to prepare the Royal Fleet, and sail ahead of us to Lannisport, clear out any of those bastard Iron Born you see on the way.” 

“Yes, Your Grace.” I could see him grinding his teeth from here, how he still has any I shall never know. I liked Stannis. Even in the show I admired him for staying true in his beliefs in justice and honour, at least until Melisandre got her paws on him. 

“Your Grace, you must remember that the Royal Fleet is no longer as strong as the Iron Fleet, the Iron Born have been vastly increasing their naval strength. Simpered Varys, the traitor . “Pycelle send a raven to the Redwynes, tell them to ready their navy and sail to Lannisport, also tell Lord Tywin to be prepared for their arrivals.” “Of course, I shall start immediately.” Robert grunted in response. Obviously he didn’t care for Pycelle either. “There shall be no more talk of strategy until I convene a War Council at Casterly Rock.” 

‘Father’ spoke sternly. Now obviously was my time to speak, I breathed in deeply. I could do this, it wasn’t like a four year old was about to tell the people who run the Kingdom how to fight a war or anything. 

“Father, My Lords, if I may” I stood up, outwardly showing more confidence than I felt. Everyone fell silent. Was it really that unbelievable a concept that I wanted to talk on such an important issue? “I feel that -“ I paused unable to convey what I wanted to say. “I feel that the Greyjoy’s shouldn’t be able to get away with this.” Some people looked confused, 

“Ever since they were conquered by Ageon the Conqueor they have failed to cooperate with the other Kingdoms.” “They have rebelled before and they will doubtlessly rebel again.” “Clearly they saw us as weak, we must prove to any other potential enemies that we are not.” “They questioned the ability of my father, your King, they questioned your ability to lead.” We must prove that we are not weak. We must show them Our Fury, and they must Hear Our Roar!”

I could immediately tell that my ‘father’ was impressed, as was Pycelle. Everyone else seemed sceptical. Jon Arryn seemed like steam was about to blow out of his ears. 

“My Prince, surely you can’t be saying what I think you’re saying!” 

“I’m afraid so Lord Arryn, the Greyjoy’s must pay the ‘Iron Price’ they’re constantly preaching about. For I fear that, for as long as they’re is a Greyjoy, there will be a Greyjoy Rebellion.”

“But, My Prince, that is preposterous - outrageous!” 

“What you are proposing is dishonourable and-“ “My Lord Arryn would you be saying this if it was your family’s holdings being raided, your people being raped and slaughtered. This is the life that the small folk of the Reach and increasingly the North are facing.” 

“My Prince, please I implore you to-“ 

“Jon shut the fuck up!” A loud roar echoed around the chamber. “It’s decided!” “Joffrey’s right!” “This has gone on for far too long.” “The disrespectful cunts have gone too far now. ”They have been warned time and time again, yet they continue to ignore us. They call us Greenlanders well let’s show them what being a Greenlander means!” “Ours is the Fury!” 

At the end of the speech, even Stannis seemed fired up. “Tomorrow me, Stannis, Renly, Jon and Ser Barristan will leave.” “By the time we return, House Greyjoy will exist no more!” “In my place Lord Baelish will rule.” 

“This meeting is dismissed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got the update message twice, I’m sorry the update didn’t upload properly. Please leave a comment telling me what you think, I will definitely respond!


	4. Goodbye's and Hello's

The time has come for about three quarters of the court to leave for war. Everyone from the poorest of nobles to Lords of well known houses are mounting their horses and loading their wagons to go off and prove themselves to the king in hopes of a knighthood. I am standing next to 'mother' as she stands from afar watching the procession prepare to leave.

"Kings Landing will seem very empty with all these people gone" I say in a quiet murmur.

"We have each other Joff, that's all that matters" she returns. Indeed I had noticed ever since my first days in this world the coldness between my royal 'parents'. I don't think I had ever seen them happy together. The tension that followed them wherever they went was chilling. There was not pretense of love. It made me quite sad to think that I couldn't even attempt to make them happy like in other fanfictions I had read in my previous life. However I steeled myself mentally as I remembered why I was doing this: I will make these Kingdoms better. And I will be a good king!

Time Skip

It was boring without any of the Lords that really meant anything around Kings Landing. The corridors of the Red Keep were barren and deserted. Just three Kingsguard remianed to protect 'mother' and I. Well me. I doubt 'father' actually gave a shit as to whether 'mother' lived or died. To occupy myself I started training with the sword, much to 'Mother's' anguish. Ser Preston, one of the Kingsguard who didn't leave for war is the one training me, at least until 'Uncle' and Ser Barristan return. It is harder than I expected it to be, Ser Preston is a member of the Kingsguard for a reason. He is in truth most talented, though obviously not on the level of Ser Barristan the Bold. Nevertheless I was covered in bruises from the navel to my collarbone and both my eyes were blackened due to hits from the pommel of Ser Preson's blunted sword. Each day (apart from two days a week reserved for lessons with Grand Maester Pycelle) I would wake up at around before dawn to make sure that I got to the courtyard before the sun rose -something to do with discipline according to Ser Preston, a load of bullshit in my opinion- to practice for 3 hours before I went to do whatever was required of me that day. It felt like a harsh schedule but I had stuck to it for 7 Moons and already I could feel the benefits of the intense schedule. Although I was only five namedays old, I had begun to tone up ever so slightly. I knew there wouldn't be much improvement until my teen years but at least it was a start.

Something I most enjoyed however were the lessons with Pycelle. As much as I was wary of the man, owing to the fact that he was in 'grandfather's' pocket. You couldn't take away the fact that he was a learned man. It was obvious that he was probably the best maester around, it was a shame he was a Lannister puppet. Nonetheless he was a good teacher, he had taught me many things about Westerosian history, such as: Aegons Conquest, the Andal Invasion and even Robert's Rebellion (though he conveniently missed out the fact that he was the one that convinced King Aerys to open the gates and let the Lannister army in.)

Time Skip

I walked into the Small Council chamber to see Littlefinger reading a short roll of parchment, as I entered he, along with Varys and Pycelle stood up, and sat again as I did.

"Good news, My Prince" he said in way of greeting.

"Oh Yes, Lord Baelish?" I enquired. I could guess the news based on the seal on the parchment but confirmation is always nice.

"Your Father will soon be returning home," he said while passing the parchment to me. I unfurled the parchment and read it aloud. Recognising the scrawl immediatly as my 'father's' writing:

Baelish,

The Rebellion is over. No more Greyjoy cunts live, let it be known that House Harlaw now rule the Iron Islands. Lord Rodrik Harlaw is now Lord Reaper of the Iron Islands and his descendents will rule after him.

Signed,

King Robert First of my Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar blah blah blah.

"How eloquent" I murmered underneath my breath. "We must prepare for the arrival of the returning armies then." I said to the Council members seated at the table.

"Of course, My Prince. I shall set up a tourney as a way of celebration." Ah, another front for some more pocket lining. I think not...

"That will not be required, Lord Baelish. I doubt the Crown can afford such an expense, we are 3 million dragons in debt, are we not?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Surely we should reward the men for their bravery?"

"That's what knighthoods are for, My Lord Regent, why spend hundreds of thousands of gold dragons when you can spend at least a quarter of that in a reward that means much more than a tourney?"

"Let us wait to see what the King says. My Lord Regent, My Prince" Intergected Grand Maester Pycelle. Ah yes 'father' would never turn down a tourney. And I'm sure the Lannisters would love to loan another two hundred thousand dragons to the Crown and gain even more control.

"A wise idea Grand Maester." Baelish smirked. Slippery bastard.

Time Skip

I sighed as I paced in front of the door my 'mother' was behind. I winced as another scream of pain pierced my ears. How stupid was the perverse old man. No men aloud in the birthing chambers; how fucking stupid! I know that Cersei is a cruel woman, bent on being queen. I know that she is an egotistical bitch. I know she murdered her husband. I know she commited mass genocide when she blew up the Great Sept of Baelor. Yet somehow I find myself caring for her. I may really be twenty two years old. But in this world I'm still a five year old boy, and she has treated me with nothing but love. Like a true mother. Now however, I hear her screaming in pain as my younger sister is born into this world.

What felt like a century later but was likely only an hour the screaming suddenly stopped, and the door opened. Pycelle shuffled outside, sweat glistening in the candle light, which shone in the hallway.

"Is she ok." I asked. Of course I knew the answer, but he doesn't know that.

"Indeed the queen is quite well, My Prince. Please come in and see for yourself."

Cautiously I walked in. There lay my mother panting as she regained her strength from the ordeal. In her arms lay a bundle. Cersei was staring down at it with fondness in her eyes. She looked up as I walked towards her. Slowly she passed the small bundle of sheets towards me. "Joffrey" She whispered.

I looked down. A baby looked up at me with soft green eyes. A tuft of blonde hair on its head.

"Meet your little sister, Myrcella."


	5. A Warg Falls

My heart raced as I processed what my 'father' was telling me; anxiety rushed through me. The time had come...

Ever since Myrcella had been born nothing too exciting had happened apart from a few things. The most notable (obviously) being the birth of my little brother Tommen. I had tried my hardest to be a good older brother to the pair. I tried to be there when they needed me and I think I succeeded. Sometimes it was hard -with me being so busy preparing for future events, lessons with Pycelle and of course; practising my combat skills- but I was definitely better than cannon Joffrey. For example: I haven't killed any pregnant cats...

Secondly, I am now at a level in sword-fighting that I can hold my own with Ser Barristan Selmy. I even beat him once. It was mainly luck so therefore I am still practising at least three times a week, though at a much less rigorous schedule. I have however beaten 'uncle' Jaime a few times, which I'm pretty happy with.

I also visited Casterly Rock twice. The first time was with the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, to negotiate a loan agreement (again.) The second was with mother. I feel that after the second visit he had warmed to me, as much as Tywin Lannister can warm to anyone.

But now it is time for the real game to begin. We are going North; Jon Arryn is Dead!

Time Skip

I hate wheelhouses. The trip north usually takes around 3-4 moons and yet it's been six and we have only just caught sight of Winterfell.

Along the way we stayed at many castles, one of which was The Twins. It wasn't a pleasant experience having to sit at the same table as Walder Frey. The slimy old man was constantly making lewd jokes and remarks, even 'father' seemed unimpressed; whether that was because of the constant dirty jokes, the numerous hints at a marriage between one of his sons and Myrcella or just because of his famed lateness during the Rebellion remains unknown. Maybe it was all three...

I shook myself out of my stupor as I caught sight of the Winterfell courtyard. I was in front of my father as I had sped up slightly as we covered the last few miles, therefore I brought my horse to a stop and waited for the procession to catch up. When it did I rejoined next to my father and we entered the courtyard. I got off my my regal looking black stallion as my father got off his horse. I could imagine the horse taking a huge sigh of relief as the grossly obese man, who called himself King, got off him.

The entire Stark family bowed to my 'father' as he approached them. As he motioned for them to rise I got off my horse with practiced ease. I looked over all of the Starks. Sometimes it still struck me about how crazy it is that I now possess the body of Joffrey Baratheon, that I am standing here looking at fictional characters as if they were real. But there was no time to worry: I have work to do.

As mother tried and failed to stop 'father' from going to mourn Lyanna Stark, I went to talk to the still assembled Stark family. I approached the group, but before I could introduce myself, Arya blurted:

"Where's the Imp." Everyone except Sansa (who looked outraged) was trying not burst out laughing at her forwardness.

"My uncle is currently trying to find an establishment that can cater to his tastes, I would imagine." I replied calmly. Personally I was trying not to laugh. 'Uncle' Tyrion was a load of fun, his wit and humour was even more apparent in real life and it was impossible not to laugh when he took Cersei down a notch every now and then. We were quite close, not as much as me and Cersei, but still I was hoping I could prevent him from running off to Daenerys, which to be honest should be easy. Afterall in this I won't be being poisoned, I hoped.

"Your Grace, please forgive my sister." Sansa said.

"It is no worry my lady, perhaps I could retrieve my uncle and introduce you, Lady Arya?" I replied, mirth in my voice. At this point, Robb was shaking in an attempt not to laugh, this was probably not helped by the shade of red both Arya and Sansa had gone: Arya from embarrassment and Sansa from anger; directed to her younger sibling.

I then turned to Robb and asked him "Where is your other brother?" Silence followed. Sansa looked even angrier and Catelyn Stark -who was pretending not to listen- suddenly tensed.

He replied "Jon is over there." Looking in the direction he pointed I saw him. Jon Snow, Aegon the Sixth of his Name. True heir to the Iron Throne.

Jon Snow was a huge problem. Like. Ginormous. This man was the person who should be inheriting the Iron Throne. Even with his dynasty overthrown I was a bastard and not even the kings bastard! And yet, I knew that I couldn't give up my throne. I had to save the people. Jon couldn't do that. Well he probably could but that would mean following cannon and there's absolutely no way that's happening he will never meet Daenareys. No one can find out about me and Tommen's and Myrcella's heritage. Why do you think I burned the book that Jon Arryn would've found?

No, no one must find out and that gives me yet another problem. There is a certain warg in the Stark family. He must be dealt with.

Time Skip

After sitting through a feast where I didn't stop staring at 'father' with utter disdain on my face -I mean seriously behind closed doors is one thing but doing everything but cheating on your wife in front of your closet allies!- I followed my mother and ''uncle'' to the broken tower. It was time to take care of the warg wolf...

I saw them enter and waited about five minutes so that I could convincingly catch them in the act. Then I entered the tower and climbed the stairs, desperately trying to maintain my balance on the cracked, uneven and dangerous stairs (seriously how old is this thing.) Only about two levels up I could hear the moaning and groaning from both 'uncle' and mother. Honestly are they even trying to be quiet!

As I walked in I exclaimed "Seven Fucking Hells." Immediately they both suddenly turned to me. They both turned to face me. Stark naked. Tits. Cock. And balls. I tried desperately not to look. Fucking puberty.

"What the seven hells are you two doing!" I semi-screeched.

"Joffrey it's not-"

"Father I don't care what it is, I couldn't give a flying fuck but what I do care about is that you're doing it louder that Robert Baratheon and one of his whores! Anyone could hear or even see!

"Wait what did you call me?"

"Jaime, I'm not stupid, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out! I don't give a shit what you do but could you please do it." At this point I stare out of the window and see Bran staring wide eyed through the window. "Quietly." I murmur. Both Jaime and Cersei look at where I'm looking. Cersei gasps.

I stalk over to the window and look at Bran. "You will never ever talk about what you saw, do you hear me?"

Shakily he nods his head. "Yes My Prince, I swear on the Gods old and new."

"Good, now turn around." He does so. "Now jump."

"Wha-" he starts to question as he turns around. And as he does I push him lightly off the ledge.

And Brandon Stark falls again...


	6. A Bastard is No More

Bran fell with a quiet wail and hit the ground back first. I knew he would only be unconscious at this point; that would change. There must be no way for Jon Snow to find out about his heritage...

Therefore I walked calmly down the steps of the tower, "Uncle'' Jaime following behind -by this time he had redressed.-

"Joffrey, we need to talk."

"There is nothing to talk about father, it is what it is, nothing will change. Just make sure no one finds out."

He said nothing to that.

By this point we had reached the bottom of the stairs, no one had yet entered the courtyard so Bran was undiscovered, for now. I picked up Bran's body and once again climbed the stairs. I re-entered the room, Cersei (now dressed again) looked at me with a bemused expression on her face. As explanation I said "He is still breathing." Then I walked over to the window. Propped Bran's limp body on the ledge, and pushed him. Again. He landed head first this time, I winced at the sound of his neck breaking, Brandon Stark was dead.

Mother came over to me and wrapped her arms around me. "Thank you" she whispered before leaving with Jaime. I watched them through the window as they snuck out of the tower and re-entered the castle. I sighed as I thought about what I had done, I despised myself for it but it had to be done. For a better future...

I pretended to find the body around 2 minutes later, as if I were on my way to the stables. I rushed inside and ran to the Maester, screaming at him that Bran was on the floor not moving, I also pretended to mourn for the boy I had just met and killed. I lied to Lord and Lady Stark, telling them how sorry I was. I acted solemn when breaking my fast with the Starks and yet had civil; sometimes cheery conversation when breaking my fast with my family.

Time Skip

It was no surprise to me when I was called into the Lord's Solar a few days later.

I knocked on the door before I entered. There sitting in the chair, usually reserved for the Lord. Was my 'father' Robert Baratheon. He looked at me with a smile on his face. I nodded to him and then Lord Stark (who was standing next to the window) in greeting.

"Joffrey, me and Ned have decided to finally bind our families together. You will marry his eldest daughter Sansa."

Of course. I couldn't really refuse. I knew how much 'father' has wanted this, ever since his marriage to Lyanna Stark was ruined. But it was just really annoying, Sansa was so gullible and easy to manipulate until Joffrey literally beat her into being a strong, independent woman. She was so unsuited to the vile, intrigue pit of Kings Landing. I said as much to 'father.' "Are you sure father? From what I've seen, Lady Stark is very innocent and not suited to the kind of place that Kings Landing is like. No offence Lord Stark." I added at the end. The last thing I wanted to do is insult my strongest ally! The fact that I murdered his son is irrelevant...

"Bah! She'll be fine, it's about time our families were linked by marriage!" Well, it was worth a try.

"Of course, father. As you say." His eyes lit up in jubilation. "There we go Ned, I told you he'd be happy to marry Sansa now we can finally join our families together!" He was beaming in happiness, it was a sight to see.

Ned managed a forced smile, that convinced nobody before he stood up, bowed slightly with a mutter of "Your Grace, My Prince." Before he walked out of the solar.

Meanwhile my 'father' watched him sorrowfully before I stood up, nodded to him and walked out too.

Time Skip

I was trying to befriend the Stark siblings after all, how could the 'kind' 'friendly' Prince Joffrey be the one to kill Bran. This is only a precautionary measure, I am hoping that no one considers that Bran was murdered but who knows what could happen. After all the Game has been changed, and as mother says: "When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die." And I am very much going to win...

So far I had Sansa around my finger. Though she has been infatuated with me from the beginning and by actually talking to Jon and training with him; including him in activities, he had warmed to me immensely. Arya practically adored me because I practised with her and had gifted her a small sword, somewhat similar to 'Needle' in size but it's blade was shaped like an actual sword. Robb was neither here nor there, he seemed to like me and he seemed to enjoy my company however unlike Jon I wouldn't consider him a friend. But he definitely wasn't someone to be concerned about in terms of plotting against me. Someone who abhorred me however was Catelyn Stark. She seemed to despise my presence due to the fact that I treated Jon with kindness and like a normal human being. Whether she was an active threat however was yet to be determined.

Time Skip

It was time for the last feast before we were due to leave tomorrow. Everyone had been gathered from nobles to smallfolk alike. I had been sat at the high table talking to my mother and Sansa. This time what I was telling Sansa was true. For example I had won a tourney, though only because "uncle" Jaime and Ser Barristan were not competing.

Throughout my conversation with my family and the Starks I noticed that Jon was missing. Noticing an opportunity to endear the Starks -bar Catelyn- to me I asked Robb "where's Jon?"

He replied with venom in his voice. "Mother said it would insult your family if a bastard was at the high table."

"Well I'm insulted that he isn't here." And with that I stood up. And with a Professor Snape like twirl stormed out of the great hall, silence in my wake.

I found Jon outside talking to his uncle Benjen, I must have arrived at the right time as he was just complaining about being left outside, therefore I made myself known immediately. "Jon, what are you doing outside?" I asked, just as pretence.

"Lady Catelyn decided it would be best for me to not attend the feast, in case I insulted your Royal parents." He murmured gloomily.

In reply I said "Jon, my father and mother couldn't care less if you're a bastard or not, you've been good to me and that's all that matters, you should not have been left out like a dog!" The bit about my mother is a bit of a lie but at this point she is in no position to say anything. "So this is what's going to happen you are going to walk in there with me and you are going to sit next to my Queen Mother and you will talk to her. Meanwhile, I will talk to Lady Stark to make sure she knows what's going on." At this point he was looking more and more anxious. His Uncle Benjen was looking as if he was trying not to hug me out of appreciation. "And then, just to shove it at that bitch, I will get my father to give you a little gift ok?"

"What gift?" He said apprehensively.

"You'll find out, now come. Excuse us Lord Benjen, you are welcome to join us if you wish."

"I think I will, thank you My Prince." He said and as a threesome we walked towards the hall.

When we arrived at the feast everyone went silent. I entered first with Jon just one step behind me. Our footsteps echoed on the hard floor of the hall, echoing around off the solid walls. As we got to the High Table I made a big deal about seating Jon, I pulled his chair back and slid it back in. Then I walked over to Lady Stark and said loud enough for everyone to hear. "You may see him as a stain on your house and on your honour. But that gives you no right to lock him outside as if he were a dog, Jon Snow is my friend. And he won't be a Snow for much longer..."

She looked at me with pure abhorrence on her face as she began to understand what I said. Then I walked over to my 'father' the King. I whispered into his ear. "Jon Snow has been treated cruelly his entire life for something he cannot control. This man, you're best friend's son has always wanted a better life. This is your opportunity to do it for him. Father I ask you to legitimise Jon Snow. You don't have to give him Winterfell but please make him as much of a Stark as his father." After that, I calmly walked over to a seat that had been pulled up by a maid and sat down. Right next to Catelyn Stark.

The feast then continued. For around another hour people laughed, sung, ate, talked and one person kept staring at me, with a look that could turn me to stone. Then the king stood up and everyone went silent.

"I have an announcement to make." He was slurring his words a bit but everyone still listened and submitted to him. This was the power of a king.

"Eddard and I have come to the conclusion that it is about fucking time that our families were united. Therefore, my son the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon will marry Sansa Stark, Lord Starks eldest daughter." Cheers roared through the hall and people started talking once more. "Silence!" Roared the king and once again silence reigned. "Furthermore, I have decided that Lord Eddard's son will be given a chance to be respected for what he is: a Stark. Therefore I King Robert of House Baratheon, First of my Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm hereby legitimise Jon Snow and give him the name of Jon Stark. He will not inherit Winterfell unless all Starks before him are no longer in the line of succession but he will forevermore have the protection of House Stark."

Once again cheers rang out across the hall and the feast started once more. Jon was crying in happiness and all the Starks were patting him on the back; even Sansa was hugging him. The only person who wasn't was Lady Catelyn.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because Jon is my friend and a good person, he deserves a better life than what you were planning to give him." And with that I stood up and walked out of the hall.

Time Skip

The time had come to leave Winterfell and make our way back to Kings Landing. Despite his legitimisation Jon has decided to still go to the Wall, though I told him to write to me if he ever needed something. This way when the Others come I have some warning. The Royal Procession will go with Lord Stark, my betrothed Sansa and Arya to Kings Landing while Jon, Benjen and the other Nights Watch recruits (along with 'Uncle' Tyrion) will head to The Wall.

Soon the throne will be mine and I vow that I will do a better job than my 'father.' I will be a good King!


	7. Travels

We departed from the ancient castle of Winterfell at midday, and just a few hours later the party was split. Both Jon and my favourite 'Uncle' Tyrion were headed off to the Wall. I felt quite sad to see them go after becoming relatively close friends with Jon and of course always being close with Tyrion. I took some solace in the fact that I knew I will be seeing Tyrion quite soon. Well, maybe.

After thinking it through my I had come to the realisation that perhaps there were other ways to keep Bran silent. I cursed myself for not coming up with a better plan and resolved myself to try and think things through better in the future. I just hoped my folly would not plunge the Realm into war...

Time Skip

After several weeks we made it to the Ruby Ford, I offered to take Sansa on a walk and she agreed. Still smitten with me.

"How are you enjoying the journey so far, my Betrothed?" I asked her.

"They are slow, my Prince."

I knew how she felt... almost a moon in and yet we were only half way. It's official: I hate wheelhouses!

Just as I was about to respond I heard a distant sound that resembled wood clashing. This was when I remembered what happened here in cannon. I decided upon a plan of action and then remarked to Sansa.

"Do you hear that?"

"Yes my Prince, it sounds like wood." She replied.

"Let's have a look." I said as I placed my hand on my sword, a gift from 'father' on my 15th name day. It was a bastard valaryian steel sword with a grip decorated with the black and yellow of House Baratheon, no Lannister to be seen. No surprise there of course, 'father' never has held back his hatred for any 'blonde haired pricks.' The centrepiece was a stag on its hind legs, just like in the sigil of our house, made with a ruby that would make Rheagar Targaryen jealous.

We entered out of the wooded area to see Arya and the butcher's boy going at each other with sticks, Arya seemed to have the upper hand and she was laughing as she beat him with the stick.

She hadn't seen us so I silently crept around them, both too caught up attacking each other to notice me. Then I quickly unsheathed my sword and brought the blade around her neck, the blade glistened in the sunlight as she yelled out in surprise.

"Always be aware, if this was real you would no longer have a head. No matter who your opponent is whether it's Ser Jaime, your Lord Father or a common peasant you must be aware to your surroundings, a surprise attack could cause your life to be forfeit." I lectured, reciting the memo put into my head every lesson of my life by Ser Barristan.

In response she struggled to escape my grasp until I let her go, then she tried to bring the wooden stick she was using to fight Mycah down on my arm, I quickly reversed the attack and with one swing cut the wood in half, careful to not accidentally amputate her wrist.

Mycah was staring at me in shock and when I looked at him he started stuttering out various forms of my title.

"Calm down." I said sternly.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Arya yelled out, enraged. "What's he done to you?"

"Arya!" Sansa admonished. "Stop it. Don't talk like that to Joffrey, he's the Prince!"

Honestly what has the world come to. I tell one guy to stop stuttering and it's as if I just said I was about to kill him!

"Come now, stop." I attempted to get them to stop and yet my words fell on deaf ears. It was obvious that if nothing was done then they would come to blows. And while I found it quite flattering that two women cared enough to argue over me now really wasn't the time...

So with that I once again drew my sword and speared the ground between them.

"That is enough!" I yelled. "You two are bickering like children! You are sisters and we will soon be family! If you cannot get along I will speak to my father and this marriage will be annulled."

They both felt silent at that. Sansa couldn't bare the thought that she wouldn't get to marry her fairy tale prince and Arya, well who would facilitate her lessons if she was under the watchful eye of Catelyn Stark?

"Now, we will get back to the Inn. I am tired."

Time Skip

The first thing you always notice about Kings Landing is the smell. Not the grandeur, not the noises of millions of people working their asses off to earn a living. Not even the merchants trying to make a profit and further themselves in life. But the stench of shit and piss and decomposing bodies. How no one decided building a sewer was a good idea, I do not know. Over 500,000 people live in this city. Half as many live in Lannisport and yet that has a full sewer system that leaves the streets sparkling. But the Capital: what an horrendous idea!

As we pulled into the city there were thousands of small folk lining the streets. Cheering not the King's name, not the Queen's but mine. Just by taking an interest and wondering the streets of Flea Bottom I had become undoubtedly the most popular member of the Royal Family. Of course this popularity was not universal and there were those (mostly the merchants) who disliked me for what they called 'interfering' -really all I am doing is making sure the small folk weren't exploited by completely unfair prices. Such as bread, there hasn't been a shortage since last winter. And yet prices were almost doubled! Completely unfair and so, using my unofficial position on the Small Council, I managed to get a law passed that gave the Crown full control on the price of bread. The Small Folk life me for it, the Merchants hate me. But as they say, you can't make everyone happy.-


	8. The Hand’s Tourney

I was the last to walk into the Small Council meeting chambers. Lord Stark was looking exhausted, understandable considering he had immediately been summoned to a Small Council meeting after an arduous journey.

Everyone stood up as I entered and sat down again as I sat down. After everyone had settled I spoke, "I hereby call this meeting of the Small Council to order."

"Shouldn't we wait for the King?" Asked Lord Stark.

"We'd be waiting for a very long time Lord Stark, in the 12 years I've been sitting in on these meeting my father had been present for four meetings."

Eddard took some time to consider this before nodding. "Very well then, let's begin."

Immediately after he said this, Lord Baelish spoke up about the king's declaration of the Hand's Tourney. Ned's surprise was expected. As much as I wished I could have done something about the debt issue I wasn't able to do a lot; the realm was still around about six million gold dragons in debt. As in canon, Ned refused, shouted and apologised and then it was agreed upon. With my support, the prize amounts were able to be reduced by a quarter but still, it was an unnecessary expense.

Time Skip

I had decided that I would compete in the tourney, in both the Melee and Joust competitions. It would be a good opportunity to prove myself in front of my soon to be subjects and also to gauge my combat abilities against the rest of the Knights of the realm. Naturally, mother disagreed, declaring it an unnecessary risk to my wellbeing. I told her to fuck off and so on the day of the joust with most of the Lords and all of the smallfolk cheering me on, I rode out to meet my first opponent: some unknown Frey. It took just one round and he was flying off his horse and onto the ground. Three more people followed and now it was time for the quarterfinals...

I lined up against Renly Baratheon. My Uncle, we weren't particularly close; I found him quite inept as a council member and was still slightly concerned that Loras would convince him to rebel against me. Though I shouldn't be too worried, after all, I doubt Stannis would rebel with no proof of my bastard heritage, so it would be the entire realm against the Reach and Stormlands: a hard fight sure, but my money would be on the Crown.

As the horn sounded we both charged, pushing our horses to the limit, hoping that we could finish the other off quickly, to save our energy for the next round. It didn't work however as we both stayed on our horses, our lances not connecting fully.

As we lined up again I re-adjusted my grip on my lance, i tensed all my muscles and kicked my horse in the side. Time seemed to slow as we got nearer to each other and then bang! My lance hit my uncle directly in the chest and he fell back and landed with a thud. Into the semi- finals I go.

Jaime Lannister was my opponent, my true father. He was more than likely on orders from Cersei to not harm me so I was easily going to win this battle. It was a shame really, I would have liked to see how we matched up...

After six tilts I revoked my previous statement. Either Cersei hadn't said anything or he had blatantly ignored her. I was lucky I was still in the fight as I was almost knocked off the first time due to my presumption. Either way I was still in it and after three more tilts with my muscles screaming in protest, my ribs bruised and battered, I managed to somehow knock my father off the horse.

The grand final was set: me against Ser Loras Tyrell; a knight with no true combat experience. The same could be said for me as I to had never fought in a war. Despite myself, I did favour Ser Loras in this fight; he had not had to do anything against the Mountain so he was still (relatively) fresh, while had had to tilt my lance nine times to beat Ser Lannister.

Soon we were off and with every gallop of my horse my ribs rattled, my chest heaved and my muscles screamed in agony but somehow I lasted a total of five tilts before the inevitable came and a well placed lance hit me square in the chest and I was thrown off my horse, landing flat on my back, bested by the Knight of Flowers.

Time Skip

Luckily for me there was a three day period in between the joust and the melee, reserved for the archery, which I wasn't taking part in. So by the time the melee came I had recovered slightly. As Lancel covered the bandages that Maester Pycelle had wrapped around my ribs just an hour ago, I contemplated my opponents. The Mountain would be the toughest. The thought of fighting him was unnerving. He was definitely going to be the biggest challenge (both Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan were on guard duty.)

The arena was full. I couldn't count how many people were about to fight each other (hopefully not to the death) to win the 15,000 gold dragons prize and for the non-knighted, a knighthood. That was my goal. I lowered the visor on my helmet and readied myself, Midnight stamped his legs impatiently. He was my favourite horse (out of the six I own, I did use to be a jockey after all) it was a gift from Ser Barristan. His coat was as black as night, yet sparkled in the sun. At fourteen years of age he was hardly old and was in his prime, he was my designated War Horse -not that I had ever gone to war.-

I was shaken out of my internal thoughts by the shouting of my father, ever the composed, he yelled at us to get started, so we did...

I immediately charged towards some unknown knight, and after some clashing of swords I deftly knocked his sword out of his grasp. He yielded immediately afterwards.

I next happened upon another combatant, a hedge knight by the looks of it, and he followed the path of my previous foe.

The cycle continued for a while before I faced a real threat. I recognised him as one of Lord Stark's retinue. He was quite talented and put up a good fight before I managed to lure him into attacking my right side before jumping off of Midnight, spinning and raising my sword to his throat.

"I yield." He said, through gritted teeth.

I was immediately back in it, someone attacking me from behind, trying to capitalise on my lack of attention. Luckily, I managed to hold them off long enough to be able to get myself back together. I didn't know who they were but the blond hair and green eyes suggested some branch of the Lannister family. He was pretty good but I outskilled him in the end managing to force him to yield by tripping him over.

As he yielded the crowd went crazy and after turning around I realised why; there was only me and the Mountain left...

He sneered at me as we circled around each other and I tried to hide my shuddering breath. Obviously it didn't work as he smirked evilly.

We continued to circle each other for a few moments before he charged at me, screaming the entire way, I just about got my sword up to stop him from cleanly slicing my head from my neck.

Shockwaves ran through my arm, and I grunted in pain. I gritted my teeth as I tried to hold him off but he managed to push back - my sword flying through the air, almost in slow motion before hitting the ground, dust rising into the air from impact.-

Fear was the primary emotion that coursed through my veins as I frantically dodged the swings, edged backwards towards my sword. As I once again dodged, I rapidly knelt down and through sand into his face, knowing it would anger him I rolled sideways and raised my sword, only just raising it in time to block his swinging sword. I desperately shuffled back, unaware that I was getting ever closer to the wall of the arena.

"Fuck" I swore as I felt my back hit the cool wooden wall. I saw the Mountain raise his shield. I felt the tension in the crowd as the held their breath. And I saw the shield coming back towards my face.

And then darkness consume me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment, I will respond!


	9. A Song of Plots and Death

Waking up to the screeching of Cersei Lannister wasn't pleasant, neither was the bellowing of Robert Baratheon, my head was already thumping, now it felt like my brain was splitting in half.

From what I could gather they were arguing about what just happened. Cersei was a proponent of the idea that the Mountain should be executed for “daring to harm the Prince,” while Robert argues that “he knew what he was doing, he entered a Melee, for fucks sake woman.”

Neither of them noticed the wince that was permanently etched on my face because of the constant screaming, until I started coughing, unfortunately this led to a groan of immense pain, obviously my ribs had been fucked after my fight.

“Joffrey!” Cersei let out a relieved yell and rushed towards me, she pretty much smothered me in her attempt to make sure I was alright. Luckily, I survived.

After persuading Cersei not to execute the Mountain I spent a few days recovering from the day of battles. It was tough and proved one thing to me: I still needed to improve, I would not rest until I was confident I could beat every knight in Westeros.

Time Skip

I was yet again on my way to the Small Council chambers; the King had called a meeting. Obviously, this had something to do with the rumours about Daenerys’ pregnancy and I was unsure as to what to do. On the one hand the Targaryens would soon be an issue. One that was unwelcome. Moreover, whatever I said I was doubtful that I could change father’s mind, his hatred of Targaryens was something no one could alter and the blind fury that overcame him when he talked about them was frightening.

On the other hand however, the attempt would fail, I knew that already so supporting the assassination would be pointless and yet now was a prime time to act on the issue. I had thought of using Jorah (the spy that he was) to act as the assassin, until I realised that it was at this point he became enamoured with her, and I wasn’t sure whose spy he was. I was not yet ready to try and convince Varys that I was his best hope for a thriving Seven Kingdoms...

I was still unsure of what to do when I approached the Small Council chambers. It appeared that the party had already begun. Evidenced by the fact that the slightly slurred voice of Robert Baratheon thundered through the halls as I swiftly moved to the entrance. It seemed Eddard had already voiced his disapproval of the plan. How nice of them to start without me...

I’m getting used to being ignored by people; as I walked into the chambers absolutely no one reacted or even glanced in my direction: too caught up in the debate as they were. It was only when I sat down that Uncle Stannis finally realised I had arrived.

“Nephew!” He greeted with what could be considered warmly, though it was almost too warmly for Stannis, something to consider for later...

“Uncle.” I responded with a nod of the head.

Finally everyone realised I was actually here and looked at me.

“Joffrey!” Robert said jovially, a tone completely opposite to what he was just using.

I smiled at him. Everyone else exchange pleasantries with me and then the argument once again started.

“Robert, what you’re suggesting is dishonourable!” Eddard said in a strained voice.

“I don’t give a shit about honour Ned, this bitch wants war! I will not have her and her savages trying to take my crown, she is Dragonspawn!”

“The Dothraki will be a problem when their horses learn to walk on water, until then they are harmless.” Ned replied hotly.

“It is only a matter of time before they become an issue, we must take them out now!”

This was going nowhere, I had to find a way to stop this assassination attempt from happening. Yet, perhaps if the attempt were to go ahead I could later make a better attempt and actually kill her, hopefully before she gained too much of a foothold.

“Joffrey” Robert called, shaking me out of my internal monologue.

“Do you agree?”

“I think that, while regrettable, it is the best option. The realm can not afford a war, the people would be worse off for it, the Targaryen dynasty cannot rise up again. They would bring chaos, death and destruction. A coin toss from the Gods cannot be the right way forward. We need strong and secure leadership, the Targaryens will not bring that. So yes, unfortunately, the girl must go.”

Robert looked at me with pride in his eyes. Lord Stark on the other hand looked disgusted.

“I will not be hand to a king that murders pregnant women” he said as he took off the badge that signified his position.

“Go then!” Robert yelled in fury. “You know I’m right you fool!”

Eddard walked towards the door but just before he left he turned around and looked at me straight in my eye and muttered “I thought you were better than this.” Then he walked away, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. And for some reason, those words stung.

“Fucking dishonourable fool” Robert cursed. “Out all of you.”

We slowly left, and as I walked out I couldn’t help but wonder if I had done the right thing.

Either way, Daenerys will live. For now.

A/N

I know that the update is short for the amount of time that has passed since the last update but I had no clue what to write, be lucky you got an update at all!

To the one very annoying person who keeps yelling at me to update, please kindly read the first author’s note...

Reviews are very much appreciated, I will respond!

Once again thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that the update is short for the amount of time that has passed since the last update but I had no clue what to write, be happy you got an update at all!
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated, I will respond! Also, if you enjoyed please leave Kudos!
> 
> Once again thanks for reading!


	10. Long Live The King

I had an epiphany as I walked down the corridor of the Red Keep towards my chambers. To be honest, I was ashamed I hadn’t of thought of it earlier.

While I say I had done ‘planning,’ in truth it was anything but. I had started off with good intentions, but the longer I spent here, reincarnated in the world of Westeros, I had become complacent. Believing that since I knew what was going to happen, I had no need to plan. But if there’s something I’ve learnt recently, living in this world, experiencing scenes that I once watched on HBO, it’s that I can’t slack off anymore. Procrastination is a thing no more.

Anyway, back to the epiphany. What if Daenerys doesn’t need to die? What if, somehow I could convince her that I was what was right for Westeros? Not only would it prevent a future war, but the dragons she will soon possess will definitely be useful in stopping the dreaded White Walkers. It was definitely a long shot. After all, she had been raised by Mr ‘Kill the Fucking Usurper’ Viserys Targaryen. She had been raised on the belief that anything Baratheon was scum. As well as: Lannister, Stark, Arryn and every other House that has raised their banners against the Mad King and the Targaryen dynasty. Would I even be able to convince her? Probably not. But I could at least try. One things for sure, it would be a lot harder to do if an attempt had been made in her life by the Crown.

With this thought in mind, I walked briskly past my original destination and then turned left at the end of the corridor. Heading towards the Grand-Maester’s rooms. I thought about what I could do to stop the Maester from sending the order. I had an idea as I saw a servant heading in the opposite direction as I. As she passed I stopped and turned towards Ser Meryn Trant. The Kingsguard currently protecting me.

Ser Meryn was a mixed bag for me. He was fervently loyal to anyone who was a Baratheon. And that was useful, he would carry out any command, noble or not. On the other hand, he was a paedophile. This was not so great. If I could stop these behaviours he would be a perfect thug. After all, he wasn’t really a great knight on the battlefield.

I waited until she was out of earshot before I started talking.

“Ser Meryn, knock her out, make sure she bleeds but don’t do any permanent damage, and make sure she doesn’t know that it was you who knocked her out.”

I could tell he was somewhat confused but like I said he was a loyal knight, he bowed and then turned and walked silently in the direction the servant walked.

A few moments later he returned, blood on his gauntleted hand. I passed him a cloth for him to wipe the blood and then said:

“Now for the acting.”

I set off in a sprint towards the Grand Maester’s chambers, I heared the clunking of Ser Meryn’s armour as he followed me.

I bashed on the door of Pycelle’s rooms with my fist, before he opened the door.

“Grand Maester, someone’s been injured” I said frantically pointing behind me. “Please, come with me.”

We ran -Well, Pycelle hobbled- back towards the injured servant girl. I winced as I saw the blood pool next to her head, I hoped Meryn hadn’t killed the woman.

“Oh dear.” Pycelle muttered as he peered down at the girl. “My Prince, Ser Meryn, if you could please help me carry her to my chambers, everything I need is there.”

When we got to the chambers and Pycelle had set about treating the wound I asked. “Is there anything I could do?”

“I can’t think of anything, my Prince, there doesn’t seem to be anything to serious, the bleeding has stopped. She’ll have nothing more than a headache, when she wakes up. I will need to monitor when she wakes up though, just in case...” He stuttered out, in the typical Pycelle fashion. “I must say, it was good of you to bring help, I can think of many people who wouldn’t of.” Here he paused. “Actually my Prince, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you please take this to the ravens? It is an urgent message from His Grace, I was about to send it when you arrived.”

“Of course,” I said with a small smile. Inside I was cheering. Finally! This man could be so very annoying.

“Ser Meryn, stay here and help the Grand Maester in any way necessary.” I said. “I will find someone else to guard me.” I added as he went to argue. He obviously found the Maester as irritating as I did sometimes.

I turned to the Grand Maester and thanked him before leaving. Heading to where the ravens were kept. I made sure to go in a somewhat round about way, this way people saw me going there. You could never be to careful when playing the Game of Thrones.

When I arrived at tower holding the ravens, I checked no one was around before opening the letter. The ravens squawked clamorously all around me, no wonder the Grand Maester is so insane, listening to these things all day, I thought as I broke the seal on the parchment. It was indeed the letter ordering whomever the assassin was to kill Daenerys.

The letter was never delivered.

Time Skip

I was in my chambers reading a book on the Andal Invasion when Ser Barristan Selmy ran into the room, completely uninvited.

“I apologise my Lord but it’s the King, he’s dying!” He shouted.

Well shit.

I burst into my ‘father’s’ chambers in a similar way to Ser Barristan did to me not two minutes ago. Inside, I found mother staring at father with what if I didn’t know better, sorrow in her eyes, boy isn’t she a good actor?

“Father!” I wailed. While I didn’t necessarily respect nor love the man; he was a horrible husband, a negligent father and a shit king. I regretted the necessity of his death, plus I couldn’t exactly walk in cheering about how I can finally have some actual power to do good. Well, I could but it wouldn’t go down very well.

I held his hand as he rambled in about how he could have been a better father. As if it made much difference now. I’m not afraid to admit a tear rolled down my cheek as he poured his heart out.

Eventually he cleared everyone apart from me and the newly reappointed Hand Lord Stark out.

“I want you to know, Joffrey that I know I was a shit king.” He said mournfully.

“You said that not me.” I jested with a smile. He laughed at that but that only led to a huge groan of pain.

“I want you to stop the assassination.”

“There never would have been an assassination” I said. “I stopped the letter from being sent.”

“You cheeky shit.” He said and smiled warmly. Ned looked surprised but then also smiled.

“Ned. I’m sorry, I should have listened to you more.”

“Robert.” He murmured, but said no more.

“Joffrey, know this. Even if I’ve never said it before, I love you and I know you’ll be a good king. A great king even. Now get the fucking Maester and let me die in peace.”

Both me and Ned laughed as we left the room and the Maester walked in.

“What do we do now?” Eddard asked as we stood outside with everyone who had previously been kicked out by Robert.

“We tell the High Sparrow to ring the bells.” Mother said. “Let the people mourn their king.” And then she added “Then we crown the new king.”


	11. Sewers and Spiders

I stood proudly on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor as I listened to the Head Septon drone on about the Mother and the Smith. I let my eyes sweep below me. I saw the lords of all the major houses (bar Dorne) looking almost as bored as I felt as they watched the High Septon continue preaching.

I tuned back in as he got to the important bit.

"In the light of the Seven, I now pronounce Joffrey of House Baratheon, the First of His Name, the King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Long may he reign!"

"Long may he reign!" The crowd returned. The frantic cheering outside showed that the small folk outside had heard the proclamation made by the lords inside the sept.

A small while later I stood on the balcony at the sept. I felt a great sense of pride at the fact that thousands of people were standing shouting at me in admiration, the fact that they loved me this much and yet I had only just been coronated. This was the power of a king. I am now the King. I would not let my people down.

Time Skip

I sat in my new office. It was still decorated the way that my 'father' had it decorated. As if he ever used it. He was willing to decorate something using the money of the people he had sworn to serve and protect and yet he never helped them. It disgusted me. The stag head that was proudly displayed on the wall only served to remind me of what I needed to be. A king for the people.

I was shaken out of my thoughts as the door was knocked.

"Your Grace," the voice of Ser Barriston sounded through the door. "Lord Varys is here."

"Let him in" I said in reply.

I stood as Lord Varys shuffled in through the doorway.

"Your Grace." Varys bowed his head in respect.

"Lord Varys, please sit." I motioned to a chair that was in front of my desk. It was still weird to think of it as my desk, my office, my crown, my throne...

"Your Grace, why did you ask to see me? Do you require the service of my Little Birds?"

"Partly" I acknowledged. "I need you for two things. The first is about Petyr Baelish."

"Oh?" Varys enquired.

"I know that he has been using his position as Master of Coin to siphon funds off the Crown. I also know that he had something to do with the death of Lord Jon Arryn. Unfortunatly I have no proof."

"I see." Lord Varys responded. "And you need my Little Birds to find this proof?"

"Indeed." I responded.

"I can definitely be of help, Your Grace. And the other thing you needed me for?"

I breathed deeply. What if this goes wrong? What if he flees to Essos and helps Daenarys? But then I pulled myself together. The benefits of this alliance far outweighs the potential risks.

"Lord Varys. I know that you have been helping the exiled Targaryens."

He tittered. "Well, there's no point in denying it."

This shocked me. I thought he would at least try to contest the claim.

"Your father was a weak King. All he did was whore, drink and mourn the girl he never had!" He was practically frothing at the mouth, this was a side of Varys I had never seen before!

"He was selfish. He never cared about the realm, as long as he had a whore to warm his bed and plenty of Dornish Red then he was happy. He never cared about the realm. These Seven Kingdoms need the Targaryens to return so that peace and order can be returned. Of course, I know you're not going to arrest me. If you were going to you wouldn't have asked for my help with Littlefinger. So what is it you want?"

I sighed. "I want what you want, Lord Varys. Of course I don't want the Targaryens back, but what I do want what is the best for the people and the Realm."

He openly laughed. "Every king says this. Very few actually carry out on their promises."

"Lord Varys, why do you think I implored my King father to annihilate the Greyjoy's? Because all the ever did was rape and murder! I'm not stupid, I know it was the unpopular choice on the Small Council but it was the right thing to do. If their measly existance had been allowed to continue then the 'old ways' would have continued. Sometimes it's not about the popular choice but it's about doing what is right!" Here I stood up. "I have great plans for Kings Landing, I have plans to tear down the city and rebuild it! I want to build sewers and make the quality of life better for the people of not only Kings Landing but also the entirety of Westeros. Before I was only the Crown Prince. The most I could do was try and get a few laws passed here and there when Father was to drunk to notice; like the law on bread. But now, now I am the King. Now I am the Protector of the Realm and I vow to protect my people!"

Varys looked mildly impressed.

"Your Grace. I believe you, however I doubt many people in my group would. They joined with me not for the good of the realm but because they were either looking for mutual gain or because they were Targaryen loyalists."

I pondered this for a few moments until I came up with a solution.

"Have you ever held meetings?" I asked.

Varys nodded solemnly, seeing where I was going with this. "A few times, mainly when something happens that could change our plans."

"Well." I responded. "The premature death of a King would definitely change things."

"Indeed they would." Varys murmered.

"Schedule a meeting for a moons time." I said. "Then we will strike."

He nodded.

"You are dismissed, Lord Varys. I thank you for your trust and I hope we can work together for the benefit of the Realm."

Time Skip

I stood at the Mud Gate. I had recieved word a few days ago from Uncle Tyrion telling me that he would be arriving at Kings Landing soon. A member of the City Watch had seen him approaching the city while on patrol on the Kings Road (something I had set up to appease the merchants, it helped deter would be theives from attacking them as they entered and left the city with their goods) and had sent word back to Kings Landing.

So here I stood watching as my favourite uncle road in on his horse, a gidt from me for his nameday a few years ago.

"Look at me" he smiled, "I get a royal welcome."

I knelt down and hugged him. We had always been close. "Well your King orders you to come and eat with me. I'm sure your hungry after your long journey."

"As His Grace commands." He laughed and followed me into the Red Keep and then into my chambers.

When we arrived I ordered one of my servents to fetch some food and then turned back to Uncle Tyrion.

"I am glad to see you again Uncle." I said warmly.

"I'm glad to be back," he laughed. "The wall was beautiful but it was fucking cold."

We laughed and talked for a little while before I got to the important stuff.

"I was thinking," I told him. "Even though your job to build sewers at Lannisport was meant to humiliate you, you did a very good job."

"Well, anything to piss my father off." He smiled.

"Yes well, I was thinking you could do the same at Kings Landing."

"Really." He said with a lift of his right eyebrow. I could tell he wasn't expecing it.

"Yes, really." I replied amused. "You will have as much money and men as you need. Plus the position won't be temporary."

"It only takes so much time to build a sewer, Joffrey." He told me.

"Yes but it will take a long time to completely fix Kings Landing. And after that there are other cities in the Realm, I'm sure their lords won't refuse Crown money to make their cities better."

"It sounds as if you're offering me a Small Council posistion." Tyrion remarked sarcastically.

"That's because I am." I replied, then stood. "Tyrion Lannister, do you accept the position of Royal Steward for the Infrastucture of the Realm, an official position on the King's Small Council?" I asked.

He looked shocked before kneeling and replying "Yes, Your Grace."

"Then rise Steward Lannister." He did so and then I laughed. "Can you imagine how pissed off Mother's going to be!"

Tyrion joined in the laughter and we continued to eat and talk about his trip to the Wall before I said. "Well I'm sure you need some rest Uncle, you need to be rested before the Small Council meeting tommorow."

"Well, thanks for the warning."

"You're so very welcome."


	12. Taxes and Lions

I was the last person to enter the Small Council chambers (of the people who had public positions, no one knew about Tyrion's position yet) of course this was planned with Tyrion in advance. He had to make a grand entrance after all.

Everyone rose as I entered, as per usual, including the Lord Hand Eddard Stark. I had contemplated relieving him of his position but had decided that it would be better for him to keep it, there was a severe lack of truly honourable men in Kings Landing, fewer still that don't really care what you think and what they want, but will say what they actually think is best. He probably wasn't happy about being stuck in Kings Landing but hey, he serves at my pleasure not his own.

As I sat so did everyone else. Ned looked like he was about to start talking when I held up my hand.

"My Lords there seems to be someone missing."

Ned looked around the table confused. "Your Grace everyone is here." Of course there was a seat empty. The one reserved for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. That was soon to be rectified.

"Ser Barristan!" I yelled. He ran in with his sword drawn, obviously thinking that something was happening inside the room. When he realsised that nothing was happening he re-sheathed his sword and bowed.

"Yes, Your Grace?" He questioned.

"My Father made a grave injustice when he dismissed you from the Smal Council. You have proved your loyalty to the Baratheon dynasty and I ask you to once again retake your seat at this esteemed table."

He looked somewhat emotional as he bowed. "I humbly accept, Your Grace."

"Good. Now sit." I ordered.

Humorously, it was just as Eddard was about to start speaking again that Tyrion decided to make his appearance. There was a commotion outside and then Ser Boros Blount, the other Kingsguard knight who was guarding the meeting entered.

"I apologise Your Grace, but Lord Tyrion Lannister is here, he is insisting that you asked him to be here."

"Indeed I did, let him in."

He bowed and then departed. Everyone looked confused as Tyrion entered the chambers and bowed sarcastically. "I do apologise for my tardiness, Your Grace."

"It is alright uncle." I responded with mirth in my voice.

After a seat had been obtained and Tyrion sat down I addressed the Council.

"My Lords, I would like to officially welcome Lord Tyrion, the new Royal Steward for the Infrastructure of the Realm to the Small Council."

Everyone exchanged pleasantries (some more genuinely than others) with Tyrion before I once again spoke.

"His position is self explanatory, his first duty is to manage the complete rebuilding and expansion of Kings Landing."

Everyone -except Tyrion- looked shocked.

"Your Grace, that will be quite the expense." Stated Pycelle, probably hoping I will tell Baelish to borrow from House Lannister. Speaking of which, I must speak with Tywin while he was still in the capital.

"I am aware Grand Maester, this is why it will be done in stages. The city will be split up into eighths." Here I called for a servant to bring a map of Kings Landing into the chambers. When it was given to me I unraveled it and spread it onto the table. "Each section will be rebuilt one by one, as you can see on the map, only certain areas are marked for rebuilding. The majority of which is in Flea Bottom. The reasoning is simple, the other parts of the city are of a good standard. Unfortunately, some of those sections will have to be torn apart anyway."

"Why is that, Your Grace?" Asked Ned.

"Because during the reconstruction, Steward Tyrion will also be overseeing the construction of the new sewers."

Here Baelish raised an eyebrow. "Your Grace, the treasury can not afford such expenditures, the royal vaults are empty." He said.

"Of course in its current state it can't, however I have created a monetary plan for the rebuilding of crown finances." I explained.

"What does this plan entail?" Stannis asked.

"Some tax reforms, to start." I said. "Firstly, a tax on all brothels. 10% of the monthly income shall go to the Crown. Secondly, a small increase of taxes for the Great Houses. Furthermore, the Crown will impose import tariffs on certain luxury items that are imported from across the narrow sea, such as Myrish glass and textiles. All in all this should help to increase income and with the unfortunate passing of my father, decrease overall spending. I will also be travelling personally to Essos to negotiate trade agreements with the Free Cities as well as hopefully making an agreement with both the Lannisters and the Iron Bank to restructure our loan repayments."

At the end of my admittedly long winded explanation Renly looked concerned. "Your Grace, the Lord Paramounts won't be happy about having to pay more tax. They were getting annoyed during Your King Father's reign because of constant tax increases."

"Many won't be happy that their visits to the whores will be more costly either." Tyrion added whilst chucking.

"They swore allegiance to me after my coronation did they not." I argued in response to Renly, I then spoke to Tyrion. "Most say they follow the Faith, the Faith condemns whoring. They have no grounds to complain."

"I suppose so, Your Grace" Tyrion conceded.

"Anyway, that is all I have to say today." I concluded, "Are there any other questions?"

No one said anything so I stood up and declared that the meeting was over before walking out of the door and striding down to my office. On my way I asked a servant to bring Lord Tywin to my office as well.

A few moment after I arrived, Tywin arrived.

"Grandfather!" I welcomed as he walked in.

"Your Grace." He gave a short, sharp bow. Some would say it was disrespectful. "I was about to leave when you called for me." He said in slightly clipped tone. Annoyed that he wasn't made Hand of the King perhaps?

"Well that'll have to wait." I said sharply. He may be family but as Show-Joffrey likes to say: I am the King.

"I asked you here today to discuss something with you."

"And that is?" He enquired as he leaned forward ever so slightly.

"The three million gold dragons that the Crown owes to House Lannister." I said. "We obviously need to discuss a repayment plan. I am aware that my father never actually came to an agreement with you."

"Yes, he was rather good at that." He said, once again with a clipped tone. I was aware that this was on purpose - he was testing the waters; seeing how much he could get away with; weighing me up. His relaxed posture and deceitfully bored looking face a were testement to this.

"Lord Tywin." I started, losing the familiarity the conversation started with. "You may have more privileges than most, oweing to being my grandfather." Twice over I thought wryly. "However my posistion commands a certain leve lof respect." I finished coldly.

He started chuckling and for a moment I thought that I had misread the situation and had pissed him off; the Reynes and Tarbecks can attest to how wise that is, but my fears were assuaged when he started to speak in a tone that only Tywin Lannister can manage. "It would seem, Your Grace, that I underestimated you. I had feared that you would be a weak king, yet you seem to have a backbone after all. Remember Your Grace, a King must not accept any disrespect."

"I will remember that, grandfather. Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some would say this chapter is boring filler, I would say it shows how Joffrey will manage the realm in the future AND you get the first glimpse of Tywin in this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review, I will respond!


	13. The Regrets of A King

Tywin Lannister was content with life. He could finally be proud of his legacy. Sat in front of him was a capable, intelligent and responsible king. And best of all: this king was his grandson. He had had doubts when the King visited Casterly Rock a few years ago; he had feared that Joffrey had been coddled to much by Cersei. Luckily, it seemed that the King had managed to become resilient to Cersei’s overbearing mothering. Tywin had great hopes for the future; the Lannister’s were now secure in their position within the Seven Kingdoms, Yes, he thought. I can be proud...

Time Skip and POV Change  
After a few hours of back and forth negotiation between Tywin and I, we had come to an agreement. The 3 million dragon debt was to be paid off in installments of 200,000 gold dragons a year, double what I had originally planned for but hey, it’s for the good of the Realm. Moreover, the Crown had to make some concessions to the Westerlands. Such as certain tax exemptions for ten years, I was not concerned by this however as it was mostly grain taxes, which weren’t really taxes as all - just a portion of the crop yield sent to the Crown in preparation for winter, I had plans for this anyway so I was happy to let this happen. All in all, I felt it was a good deal, in 15 years the Crown would be debt free where the Lannister’s were concerned, just 15 short years.

Time Skip

I sat on the Iron Throne in the throne room listening to a peasant named Jackar complaining about one of the merchants violating the regulations imposed by the Crown a few years ago on the price of grain and bread and so forth. These complaints were hardly uncommon; the regulations -while popular with the Small Folk- were massively unpopular with the traders and merchants, who were now unable to exploit the Small Folk as they did before, hence their income was not as large. Because of this they often tried to circumvent the law and overcharge the Small Folk. Usually, after a warning visit by the City Watch they stopped but this particular merchant hadn’t. I assume he thought that the Crown wasn’t serious and would let it go - I wasn’t prepared to do so. Perhaps, if this was the first time of this happening I would have just issued a warning, but it wasn’t; there had been numerous reports of exploitation by Ellion Leath (the merchant in question) and I was not going to let it stand again. Therefore as Jackar finished his warranted complaining I spoke up.

“This is not the first time the Crown has received complaints about Ellion Leath, and I doubt it will be the last. He has been issued warning after warning. I say no more.” I turned to Uncle Renly, who was standing near the edge of the room. “Lord Renly, order the Goldcloaks to arrest Mr Leath.” Renly nodded and then left the room, presumably to relay the order. The peasant thanked me profusely before I stood and called an end to court for the day.

I walked out of the door that linked the royal chambers to the throne room and headed towards my office. I had several reports to read and sign off on, mostly on the Kings Landing reconstruction.

I soon arrived at my office and sat down at my desk, before I got to work however, I got caught up in the new decor of the office. Gone was the unnecessary luxury items, the Myrish rugs and the such. Instead it had been replaced by simple yet elegant decorations. The desk, in stark contrast to when it was my father’s, was neatly organised. Only one thing remained the same. The stag’s head on the wall, staring at me, always reminding me what I must never allow myself to become, always setting me on the right path.

I was just about to get to work when there was a knock on the door. I sighed and placed the quill back in it’s holder.

“Enter!” I shouted. In walked in Ser Barristan. He bowed and said “Lord Varys to see you Sire.”

“Let him in.”

Lord Varys shuffled in and sat down. “Your Grace. My little birds have found that Lord Baelish records everything in his ledgers, which he keeps at his main brothel.”

“This is useful how? What’s to say that he didn’t forge the records?” I asked.

“That is possible.” Varys conceded. “However, Lord Baelish is a vain man, he considers himself smarter than everyone else, he probably believes that no one would catch onto him, so he doesn’t go through the effort of forging the numbers.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” I muttered. “But we can’t raid the brothel, if there is nothing in the ledger then we can’t do anything with him, and he’ll know that we’re onto him.”

“We could fake a robbery.” Varys suggested.

“I’ll think on it.” I said. “Thank you Lord Varys, you are dismissed.”

He stood up bowed and left, and I was left to think on what to do...

Time Skip

I had decided on a course of action. It would involve the use of some infiltration of my own. So, with that in mind I left my office and flanked by most of the Kingsguard I headed out of the Red Keep and into the city.

After a short walk I arrived at a small house. It was quite ordinary in description; it was -like most houses in Kings Landing- made out of wood. One window gave a glance into the house; the inside was decorated warmly yet modestly.

I walked up to the door knocked the knock that I had knocked many times before. The knock that I had sworn I would never knock again...

Around 30 seconds after I had knocked a young woman opened the door. “Jof- Your Grace?” She corrected herself. “What are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Alis.” I said.

“Well, come in then.” She said, still sounding confused. And after telling the Kingsguard to wait outside, I did so.

Alis, to put it plainly, used to be a whore, I used to visit her quite often, a man has needs after all. However, after my betrothal to Sansa was confirmed I ended our relationship. I gave her a hefty amount of money, so that she no longer had to sell her body and I bought her a decent house in the city, far away from the poverty-stricken Flea Bottom, partly because I genuinely wanted the best for her and partly because at the time, I couldn’t imagine anyone else being with her. I had come to care for her quite a bit.

“What do you need Joffrey?” She asked.

“I need a favour.” I stated plainly. “Have you kept in contact with anyone who still works at Baelish’s main brothel?”

“Of course I have, why?”

“Can you meet with them here, tommorow?”

“I suppose so, why?”

“I can’t tell you that.” I said rigidly.

“Joffrey.” She said as she moved closer. She leaned in against me and whispered in my ear. “You have become so stiff ever since you became King.” She giggled as he grabbed my sinful erection.

“This shouldn’t be happening Alis.” I said, pitifully. “I’m betrothed.”

“Then stop me.” She whispered.

I never stopped her.

Not when she removed the clothes from my body.

Not when she removed hers.

Not when she wrapped her lips against my cock.

Not when she started to ride my cock.

And it was to late to stop her when I cummed inside her.

I never stopped her.

Oh Gods, Sansa what have I done.


	14. Adulterer

“Get me those ledgers by tomorrow.” I said sharply as I left the house, slamming the door. Regret ran through me as I stalked down the streets. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. What had I done? How could I betray Sansa like that? That was not how a King should act! I sighed as I considered my options, of which there were two: I could tell Sansa, or I could keep it a secret.

It was as I re-entered the Red Keep’s walls and escaped the cheering crowds (safely held back by the group of Kingsguard that had escorted me into the city) that I made up my decision. I would tell Sansa. She deserved to know. And she’d probably find out eventually anyway, spies are everywhere in this city. It might even enlighten her to the truth about King’s Landing, I thought. Let’s just hope she doesn’t hate me...

Time Skip

I stared solemnly at the door that Sansa had just ran out. After I had told her what had happened she had stared at me silently before running out of my chambers. Now it was my turn to be silent, my betrothed gone, and I knew not whether she would return.

Time Skip

I had busied myself with reading reports and other duties I had to do after Sansa had fled. And it was while doing this in my office that she returned.

“Why did you go?” She asked, wiping away her tears.

I sighed before telling her, “Petyr Baelish has committed treason. He has been embezzling Crown funds and plunging the Crown into further and further debt. I needed access to his private ledgers, he is arrogant and it is my understanding that he may not have edited the numbers in them. I couldn’t storm the place in case he has, so I went to Alis; in hopes that she could get them for me, silently.”

“You went to a whore.” She said, more of a statement than a question.

“I admit I had used her services in the past. But I ended our - arrangement when we became betrothed however I knew that she still was in contact with some of Baelish’s whores and I hoped she could use them to retrieve the ledgers.”

“I am not happy.” She said, stating the obvious. “But I am to be your wife, it is not my place to question your actions.” I went to interrupt but she ignored me. “I will ask however, that from now on you include me in your plans, I am to be Queen, your Queen. And while I cannot stop you. I ask that you do not sleep with another woman again.”

“Of course my Lady.”

Time Skip

The next day after I sat at my desk there was a knock at the door and a young maid that I had never seen before entered. “Yes?” I asked.

“For you, Your Grace.” She said as she placed a large tome on my desk.

“Thank you” I said with a large shark-grin on my face.

After she left I opened the ledger to see Baelish’s writing and numbers written across the page. The whole book was filled with numbers, left to right. Baelish likely thought no one would be able to understand the things, luckily for me I did economics at school and I can clearly see one thing: these numbers do not add up.

I picked up the ledger and walked to the door. After telling one of the servants who was walking past to call the people to the platform outside the keep I started heading to the platform. This was going to be fun!

As I walked onto the platform a large cheer was my welcome from the people. I smiled and I started with my pre prepared speech. I was always one for drama.

“My people I apologise for the lack of warning I gave in calling you here, however somethings have come to my attention that could not wait I’m sure you have things to do so I will get straight to the point. I was unconvinced by the explanation given by Grand Maester Pycelle concerning the death of Jon Arryn, specifically that he died from a fever.” Here Pycelle intervened.

“Your Grace I assure you, I carried out a full examination!” He blustered from where he was standing behind me.

“I am sure you did Grand Maester, of course you had no reason to suspect it could be anything else. Jon Arryn was a popular man after all. However he was, before his illness, a healthy man for his age, and so I felt it unlikely that a fever burned through him so easily. This led me to consider the possibility of poison. And after some research I discovered a poison so hard to detect that I doubt you even thought of it Grand Maester: the Tears of Lys.”

The people murmured and some gasped, clearly they were surprised by the revelation.

“It could be possible, Your Grace, but why would anyone want to poison Lord Arryn?” Pycelle asked.

“A fair question Grand Maester and I admit for a while this stumped me.” I am such a great liar. “However, I had a list of suspects: various Lords who would benefit from the death of the late Lord Hand. With the help of Lord Varys I eliminated people from the list until only one person remained.” At this point I glanced slyly to my left. I saw Lord Baelish looking slightly nervous; he was sweating acutely and was glancing around as if looking for an escape route.

“The evidence against this man is great. He engaged in an affair with Lord Arryn’s wife in fact my Master of Whispers has evidence that the supposed heir to the Vale is not Jon Arryn’s son at all but instead a bastard between this man and Lysa Arryn. Letters have been found that show that Lysa Arryn and this man plotted to poison Jon Arryn so that they could elope. Regardless I believe that the love was only one sided. I believe that this man was only manipulating Lysa Arryn so he could consolidate power and continue to commit treason until he could get to the person he truly loved, not Lysa Arryn but her sister Catelyn Stark!”

There was an uproar from the court, with shouts of “Murderer!” and “Adulterer!” I glanced over and Baelish looked ready to runaway. Lord Stark looked pale, it looked as if he had connected the dots.

I raised my hand to quieten them. “And how did he do this? He did it by using his position to steal money from the Crown, making himself richer in a the process!”

The shouts became “Thief!”

“The person who murdered Jon Arryn, was none other than the Master of Coin Petyr Baelish!”

He tried to run but Ser Barristan leapt over and tackled him to the ground. The crowd became more boisterous yelling “Thief, Adulterer, Murderer.”

“Ser Barristan, lead him to the block!”

The crowd yelled out, seemingly in jubilation.

After he had been pushed down I asked him, “Any last words Lord Baelish?”

He turned his head to try and address the people better. “You people call me an adulterer? You should say that to your King!”

The blood rushed from my face. No, oh god!

“He is due to marry Lord Stark’s daughter, she is to be your Queen, and he is off fucking whores!”

“So before you judge me, judge the man who is about to kill me!”

The crowd was silent. You could hear a pin drop.

I unsheathed my sword and raised it above my head, then I swung it down hard, slicing his head from the rest of his body.

The crowd cheered, but I saw the glances they gave me.

I could feel the stares of the lords of the small council.

And I could see the ice cold glare of a very angry father.

For fuck sake.


	15. Dismissed

How did he know? How could he know? I had been so careful, ensured I covered every trace, and yet he knew… That blasted eunuch and his ‘Little Birds.’ Yet now there was no way out, gold cloaks covered every exit. Those blasted Starks will win again, what would Catelyn think of me now? Everything I had built, gone. Lysa, that stupid bitch, it must have been her, I told her to burn the letters. That cunt, so pathetically in love, as if I would ever reciprocate it! But, I’m not the only one who know secrets, yes what a way to go? To destroy the ‘great respect’ held between the ever so perfect King Joffrey and the honourable Ned Stark. Oh yes, what a way to go...

Time Skip and POV change

As soon as I had entered my chambers there was a knock at the door and Ser Boros entered. “Lord Stark is asking for you Your Grace, should I send him away?”

“No,” I sighed in resignation, it would be useless to avoid him, he was my Hand for Christ sake! “Let him in.”

He bowed his head and walked out. A moment later Lord Stark entered. Saying he looked angry would be an understatement, he looked downright furious, though it seemed that he was trying to mask it.

“Is it true?” He asked.

“I’m afraid I cannot deny the accusation but I can admit that I was in the wrong, and it was in a moment of weakness and it won’t happen again.” I responded.

“A moment of weakness!” He yelled, you dare dishonour my daughter, your future queen and you call it a moment of weakness!”

“I cannot call it anything else, it was a mistake, I immediately felt guilty.” I said. This was getting out of control.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you even there?” He clarified.

I once again found myself sighing, I had a feeling I would be doing that a lot in the near future. “I was talking to someone who could give me information on Baelish’s treasonous activities. I admit that I had been... close with her before, I had of course ended this as soon as I became betrothed. She then came onto me and I was to weak to stop her.”

He stared at me coldly, it seemed as if he was weighing something up in his head. I was starting to get nervous.

“I can’t continue to serve a king who had dishonoured my daughter in such a way, I hereby resign as the Hand of the King.”

I was flabbergasted! I mean, I know that what I did was wrong, but this seemed quite hypocritical of him, he served ‘father’ and he did the exact same thing to Lyanna Stark, Ned’s sister!

“You held no such reservations about these things when Robert was having affairs while betrothed to your Sister” I pointed out.

“I wasn’t happy about it, but what was I to do? If I tried too hard to stop him I would put our friendship at risk, and I had no official power to stop him!”

“And what about your bastard? The one that you produced while married to your lady wife? Was that not a mistake, a mark on your honour?” I wasn’t going to tell him that I know it’s not his son, especially when it helps me in arguments.

He just stood there in silence.

“However, I do not want our working relationship to be full of tension, therefore I accept your resignation.”

“That’s not all.” He started. “The betrothal is over.”

“What!” I yelled. Mostly in shock. Well if cannon wasn’t already fucked up... “But my Lord, I have come to care for your daughter greatly; even though my actions don’t mirror that.”

“This experiment of the people of the North being down in the south has failed. Sansa belongs in the North not here.”

I knew I could change his mind, so I once again sighed. “I reluctantly agree, I accept your proposal my Lord.” I found myself feeling quite sad because of this.

“I will leave tomorrow at dawn.” He informed me.

“You are dismissed.” I said in reply.

There goes my great relationship with the North.

Time Skip

I entered the Small Council chambers a few hours later. After Lord Stark had left I had called a Small Council meeting, the position of Hand of the King shouldn’t be empty for too long and I had the perfect replacement. And it was also time to get rid of the last bit of dead wood.

As I sat down I got straight to business.

“My Lords, in case you didn’t already know Lord Stark has resigned from his commission.” After the mutterings had died down I started again. “It is my belief that the office of Hand cannot remain empty. Which is why I have called this meeting.” Mutterings once again. Then Pycelle spoke up.

“Your Grace, how have you secured someone to take the position so quickly?” He asked.

“Because, Grand Maester, I have not appointed someone outside of this esteemed body, the person who will take the position is currently sitting in this room.” Once again there was muttering, I love surprising people.

“Lord Stannis.” He looked at me surprise written across his face. “Do you accept the position of Hand of the King?”

He stood up and bowed before replying. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Then sit in the seat reserved for you.” He looked emotional as he sat down.

“Now of course my Lords I didn’t call this meeting just to make this appointment, there is one more thing that needs to be done. I have come to the decision that Lord Renly, you are no longer required as Master of Laws and therefore you are dismissed from the Council.” Was

“Your Grace,” he sounded outraged. “I have served you faithfully.”

“Lord Renly, I have come to deem you as ineffective in your role, it is a badly kept secret that most of the City Watch are in the pocket of the various Lords and Ladies in King’s Landing and yet you have done nothing to stop this, corruption in the areas of governance that you deal with are rife and that is not in the Crown’s best interest. Now I will say it again, you are dismissed!”

“I will not stand for this!” He shouted before storming out of the room.

“Now my Lords, there are three positions on this council that are vacant and I have a few people I am considering to fill them. Rest assured, this council will soon be full again. You are dismissed.”


	16. Only Theoretically, Of Course

I stood on one of the many balconies that made up the Red Keep, staring at the city below. And for the first time in a long time I felt worried.

On the outside, life went on as normal: I held court, listening to the moaning of both lords and smallfolk alike, doling our advice, rewards and punishments where necessary. I held meetings with various lords and advisors, sometimes heeding their advice and sometimes not. I had lunches with mother, Tommen and Myrcella telling them somethings and not others. Speaking of Cersei, she gave me a huge rant about my affair with Alis, stemming I suspect from Robert’s continuous cheating. Though, she seemed quite happy that the Stark Lord was no longer in the capital. I continued governing, reviewing reports on various things, whether that be on the progress of the new sewage system that had recently started to be built, or the rather boring but necessary tax reports from the crown tax collectors.

And whilst I was doing all these things I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen, mainly because in the last council meeting Lord Varys had reported that Renly had left King’s Landing -which itself was no surprise; there was nothing left for him here- however, he was not heading for the Stormlands but for the Reach. It may simply be a visit to his lover’s family. But I had a feeling that a plot is brewing. This is why I took some preemptive actions.

Firstly, I sent a letter to all the various lords of the Crownlands ordering them to train up troops. If there was going to be an invasion then we needed to be prepared.

Secondly, I sent a raven to Lord Casper Wylde at the Rain Point. I had learnt about House Wylde as part of Pycelle’s lessons. He had taught me quite a bit about the various houses in the Stormlands (with me being a Baratheon, by name anyway) and I remembered reading, on my aimless meandering through the wiki’s, that House Wylde declared for Stannis. Now, I assume that was because they saw him as the rightful heir after Robert -as by that point I had been declared as illegitimate- this has not happened to me so in their view I am the rightful king. Thanks to Pycelle I know they can produce around 2,000 of the Stormland’s 30,000 men. A fair amount for a vassal. By confirming that they’re on my side by giving Lord Casper the position of Master of Ships, (they possess a small fleet, and if his advise is useless Stannis can provide better advise with his expertise) then that is 2,000 less men for Renly, if he does make that costly mistake.

Thirdly, I informed the Small Council of an impromptu visit I was going to take to Horn Hill. Unsurprisingly they immediately against the idea. After all, Horn Hill is in the Reach a place potentially hostile to my rule. I counter argued with the fact that potentially, a royal visit may dissuade them from acting (this in my mind at least was a long shot, and wasn’t really my intention.) And that it was also my intention to give Lord Randyll the position of Master of Laws. He had a reputation of being un-yielding and was just the sort of person to root out the corruption in the City Watch. Moreover, he was discontent with House Tyrell, especially Mace after the slight made against him. House Tarly was also a well respected military house,some people even say that without the Tarlys house Tyrell would fall. The biggest thing that I would gain however would be the brilliant strategic mind of Lord Randyll. The potential dissuasion of taking up arms would just be a great side effect, if it worked.) Therefore, I informed them I was going. No ifs or buts.

In a few hours I would set out, I had to hold court for the last time first.

I was just about to leave when I heard a shout from the city below. “It’s King Joffrey!” Cheers and shouts of “Your Grace!” Soon followed. I raised my hand and waved, a grim smile on my face. Fortunately they couldn’t see my hesitation but I could certainly feel it. After all, what’s the point trying to help your people if they are all going to die?

A few moments later I walked off the balcony and almost bumped into Cersei. “Mother, what are you doing here?” I asked her in confusion, she wasn’t one to greet the people.

“Do you need to go to the Reach? You are the king, make them come to you!” She said for what felt like the thousandth time. Ever since I had told her and my siblings she had continuously tried to pursuade me not to go.

“Yes I do, it will send a message to those plotters, maybe I should stop by at Highgarden as well.” I said jokingly, I had no plan to do so, that would be a bit too risky for my liking.

She didn’t respond verbally to that. Instead she wrapped her arms around me and held me for a moment. Then she kissed my forehead, whispered “be safe” and then walked away.

Time Skip

I walked through the corridors and waited for the Royal Steward to make his proclamation: “All rise for His Grace Joffrey of House Baratheon, the first of His name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” I then entered and sat down on the most uncomfortable chair in the world.

“My Lords and Ladies, as I am sure you know I will soon to be travelling to Horn Hill to offer the position of Master of Laws to Lord Randyll Tarly. I must also inform you that I have offered the position of Master of Ships to Lord Casper Wylde of the Rain Point.” The people of the court seemed somewhat surprised by this revaluation, they most likely expected a lord of a higher stature to be given a position on the Small Council. “The position of Master of Coin will -for the time being- remain vacant. In my absence the Lord Hand will be my regent.”

With that out of the way I headed out into the courtyard, waiting for me there was Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime, Ser Preston and Ser Arys, the members of the Kingsguard who would be accompanying me on my trip, along with 150 or so Baratheon men, sworn to me and not Renly of course, servants and a few others who would be forming the retinue.

“Are you ready to leave Your Grace?” Asked Ser Jaime, his white cloak flapping in the wind.

“Aye, if we leave now we should get a good few hours of riding before we have set up camp for the night.” And with that I mounted Midnight and we set off for Horn Hill.

Time Skip

Our procession rolled into the keep of Horn Hill, the centuries old towers loomed above me as I trotted into the courtyard, Ser Barristan and Ser Jaime in front of me as if to shield me from any potential threats. My jewel adorned crown sat atop my head, I wanted to make a point: I was their King.

I had a severe case of déjà vu as I saw the Tarly family lined up in the courtyard. Hopefully this visit would end better than the Winterfell visit did.

I dismounted my horse and strode towards the Tarly’s. They kneeled as I approached and I narrowed my eyes, was it genuine? Either way, hopefully by the end of this trip their loyalty would be secured...

“Rise.” I said and they did. “Lord Tarly, it is a pleasure to meet a man of your renown.”

“It is a pleasure to host you, Your Grace.” He said in reply.

I then turned to his son who was the next in the line. “Lord Dickon.” I said as I eyed him up, “I am sure you will carry on the legacy of your ancestors.” Lord Tarly muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “at least one of my sons will” but I chose to ignore that.

I then greeted his daughter and wife before I turned back to him and asked if we could go to his solar, after all we had much to discuss...

After we had gotten settled in his solar I got straight to the point.

“Lord Tarly, you know I wouldn’t come all this way just to offer you a Council position, I would have just sent you a raven like I did with Lord Wylde.”

“Yes, Your Grace, I had wondered.”

“Well let me put it simply. I suspect my Uncle Lord Renly of plotting against me, his last words to me before he left King’s Landing -after I had dismissed him from his position- were “I won’t stand for this.” These could have simply have been an angry man’s words and thus I thought no more of them however, my Master of Whispers has reported that he has not returned to Storm’s End, as would be expected but instead headed for Highgarden. I feel that they are planning to overthrow me and place Renly on the throne, with perhaps Lady Margaery as his queen. Though I doubt anything exciting will be happening in their bed chamber.” I added humorously, though he didn’t seem to find that funny. “Regardless, I know that you are an honourable man who values the oathes you make and no oath is bigger than the one you make to your king. I know I can trust to you to honour that oath if I am betrayed.”

“Aye, I have sworn an oath to you, but I have also sworn an oath to Mace Tyrell.”

“Mace Tyrell, the man who took credit for your successes.”

“He may have, but he is my Lord.”

Nothing is ever simple, he wants something.

“And I am your King. And if the Tyrells do rebel they would be traitors. Why should traitors keep their positions of power and respect? They should go to people loyal to the Crown. Now theoretically if they did rebel, and you sided with the Crown, they would be the traitors and you would be the hero, the one who stayed loyal to the Crown. And in this theoretical scenario, you Randyll Tarly would be declared the Warden of the South, Lord Paramount of the Reach, and I as your King, and only I, could make that happen, not your Lord. Theoretically of course.”

He smiled a shark like smile. “Of course, Your Grace, only theoretically.”


	17. Flames

Soon enough I was back in King’s Landing. Lord Tarly had ridden back with me, with his son and wife and a retinue of a few hundred men, he had left the majority of his men at Horn Hill to defend it in case of a siege. Now with the support of Lord Wylde and Lord Tarly I was confident that if anything were to happen, I would have the means to deal with it.

One problem that remained was the vacant position of Master of Coin. I simply had no idea who to give it to. One idea I considered was giving it to my grandfather, however I was weary about giving the Lannisters too much power. They already had enough. Unfortunately outside of them I couldn’t come up with many options. There was no one that I could think of who had the skills and or the political power to warrant the position. No one in the North or the Riverlands were too fond of me right now, the current lady of the Vale was insane and dispises me due to my execution of Littlefinger, the Reach are seemingly siding with Renly, I haven’t reconciled with Dorne yet and no one in the Crownlands is really important enough. So as far as I could think of I had three options: I could increase Lannister power, I could give a minor lord more influence or I could abolish the position, at least for the time being. I decided to think on it.

After eating and dealing with a few minor issues I realised just how tired I was; I had ridden quite a distance and I always became exhausted after travelling. With that in mind I decided work could wait and I set of to my chambers ready to sleep and recoup before starting afresh later.

I entered my chambers and changed out of the expensive clothes that I wore and into some night clothes that mother had made for me. While the tunics and sills are quite comfortable, sleeping in them would ruin them, and Cersei would go absolutely bat-shit if I did. I sighed in comfort as the goose feather stuffed pillow embraced my head and I drifted off to sleep.

I shot awake as an almighty explosion rattled the Red Keep to its core. “What the fuck!” I shouted and I ran out onto the balcony. What I saw filled me with dread, my heart dropped. “No!” I gasped, “No no, no, no!” The screams of people reached me as I watched green flames reach up as if trying to touch the sky. The flames danced from building to building destroying everything as they went. “You fucking idiot!” I screamed.

How could I forget about the fucking wildfire?!

I dashed back into my room and then out into the corridor people were running this way and that but I spared them no mind as I started running out towards the gates. Luckily I soon saw a familiar face “Tyrion!” I screamed. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Of cause knocking everything down and digging fucking sewers would disrupt the wildfire! “Get as much sand as we have and send it over there, we need to stop it spreading!” He nodded seriously before heading to do just that.

I continued running towards the gates and once there I was greeted by what seemed like thousands of small folk trying to get passed the locked gates.

“You fucking bastards!” I shouted at the guards, “fucking open them!” As soon as they did the small folk cascaded into the courtyard. I pushed against the wave of people who were to panicked to notice who I was.

Soon I was getting closer to the ever growing fire, I could feel the warmth on my back and the stream of people heading towards the keep (word must’ve spread) were looking more and more panicked, the frequency of injured people was also increasing.

Soon I could see the flames. They were intense to say the least. They were moving quickly in all directions, if we didn’t stop this quickly King’s Landing would no longer exist.

I soon spotted Tyrion speaking to a large group of people who were trying to help put out the flames. As I approached he spoke to me. “Your Grace, it is too late to just put sand on the fire, it is too big.”

“I agree.” I said and then turned to the group of both lords and commoners alike - the only time you’d ever get them to mingle- who were standing seemingly looking for orders. “Head around 100 metres in each direction and then create a circle of knocked down houses, make sure there’s a big enough gap so that the flames won’t be able to spread!” They soon went off to do so and I joined them but not before ordering one of them to bring some tools to the men and telling Tyrion to gather as much of the City Watch as possible to aid in destroying the houses.

Soon it seemed the entire city was at work hacking at the wooden houses. The sweat was pouring down me as I too brought down house after house with the aid of the resistance force. My arms were the weight of lead as I brought down the houses, but I had to stop this fire.

The flames were approaching rapidly, I worried that we wouldn’t finish but luckily just as the demented green flames were licking at us the last house was brought down.

I ran back hoping that the 10 or so metre gap of nothing would be enough to extinguish the flames. Luckily, while a few houses started to catch they were soon doused out by the sand that was now on store nearby.

Hours later and the houses within the flames grasp had collapsed and the damage was clear: miles of destruction. A huge circle of what used to be homes and shops were no more. How many dead? How many had lost their homes and livelihoods?

All because of one mad king...

After ensuring that the flames were now under control I sought out the captain of the City Watch, soon he would no longer have the position but for now it was him I must go to.

“I want every member of the Alchemists’ Guild in the Black Cells.” I ordered sternly.

“Yes, Your Grace.” He replied before bowing and walking away.

I just hope they haven’t paid him off.

If I can’t have Aerys then it will be them who pay for this.

I’ll have their heads on a spike.


	18. The Aftermath

After speaking to the City Watch commander I called an emergency council meeting to discuss what had just happened.

As soon as everyone had sat down I immediately started.

“How the fucking hell was that allowed to happen?” I raged.

“Steward Lannister, how could you allow that to happen, your wreckless actions have led to the deaths of at least thousands of innocent people! Why did you not check for potential hazards before you started blasting away regions of the fucking city?” I shouted, I knew it was unfair to put the blame on him but I just needed someone to scream at. I was angry, mostly at myself for managing to forget that there was fucking wildfire spread across the city. It was a death bomb just waiting to take innocent lives.

“Your Grace, forgive me but did you expect me to check just in case there was a batch of wildfire underneath someone’s house?” He replied in quite a calm manner.

“Of course not you bastard!” I screamed, standing up, I felt like punching something and so I did, I turned around and punched the wall. Hard. I immediately regretted it as pain jolted up my arm. But somehow I felt so much better for it.

“I apologise, uncle. I mean not what I said. It is just...” I sighed cradling my arm. “All these people have lost their lives and here I am a crown on my head and I remain completely unaffected by this travesty.”

“Your Grace your words did not offend we should however at least find out who is responsible for this.” He said.

“The answer is clear.” I said sternly. “Only the Alchemists’ Guild know how to create wildfire, anyone who wanted it must go through them, I have ordered the arrest of all of them. They currently are awaiting their punishment in the Black Cells.”

“Your Grace,” this time it was Varys who spoke, “surely we should question them before they are punished? They may have more information.”

“Quite so, I will get Ser Illyn on it immediately.” I answered. “Now that that is out of the way, uncle, how bad is the damage?” I asked.

“Very serious, Your Grace, whilst some of the damage comes within the area zoned for destruction most of it is outside of that, we are talking about miles of destruction in each direction, a good quarter of the city has been destroyed.” He spoke solemnly, it was clear that he was also affected by the destruction the wildfire has caused.

“Do we have an estimate for how much it will cost to fix the damage?” I asked, knowing I would not like the answer.

Everyone looked at each other, either they were scared to reveal the answer or no one knew the price of the restoration.

It was the Grand Maester who spoke up. “While we do not know the exact figure, Your Grace, I would estimate that the cost would be in the hundreds of thousands of gold dragons.”

“If not millions,” Stannis added gravely.

I took a sharp inhale of breath, this was not money that the Crown had and I told them just that.

“There is another problem, Your Grace.” Lord Tarly now, adding more problems to the ever growing list.

Why on Earth did I ever want to be King?

“If the Reach does rebel, as seems likely, then there will be a severe lack of food for the people of the city, considering we get most of the food from the Reach.”

Before this whole thing kicked off I had thought of building Greenhouses (like the kind they had in the North) to try and make King’s Landing more independent where crops were concerned, this is why I wasn’t much bothered by the concession I made to the Lannisters - where they didn’t have to pay the grain tax to the Crown for the duration of the treaty.- This plan was part of the rebuilding project however, I hadn’t forseen Renly being stupid (or smart depending on how you look at it) enough to rebel. If he did, this would be a disaster. Plans had changed.

“Steward Lannister,” I started, “You were in the North, while you were there did you see the glasshouses that they had, to build crops that they otherwise wouldn’t be able to grow?”

“Yes, Your Grace they are quite ingenious.” He replied.

“Take as much money as we have in surplus and build as many as you can, once they are done hire some people to look after them, if we can get some food growing then we may be able to at least sustain some of the population, we may have to ration it out but at least they’ll be fed.” I ordered before continuing, “I understand that at least for now the Reach are still sending food?” I received nods of agreement. “Then take a portion of what they send, the highly nutritional foods, and keep it separate from the other stores, then plant them and this is what we will grow.”

I just hope it will be enough.

After finishing up other minor matters I ended the meeting and went to Ser Illyn’s chambers where I told him to start the process of ‘extracting information’ from the members of the Alchemists’ Guild, I of course ordered him to start with finding out how long they had been members of the Guild and then move on to who had ordered the pots of wildfire to be scattered around the city. I also ordered him to start with the oldest first, and only to move to more extreme measures if they started to be less than forthcoming. I wanted information but I was above being cruel to them just for cruelty’s sake; especially now that I’ve calmed down a bit. My slightly blue knuckles were a testament to my previous wrath. Just to make sure he stuck to my orders I sent one of the more honourable of the City Watch with Ser Illyn.

I would get the answers, and I would separate the guilty from the innocent.

Now that my rage had subsided I realised that executing innocents was not the best policy, not the best thing in the world really...

After sorting things out with Ser Illyn I headed to one of the many private dining rooms set out for the Royal Family. I knew that Tommen, Myrcella and mother would be there and it was high time that I spent some time with them; I had been neglecting them recently; getting sidetracked with other matters and it wasn’t really fair.

I arrived at the dining room to see my brother, sister and mother talking quietly while eating. Cersei saw me first as she was facing the entrance (I’m sure she did it so she could see any potential threats that were coming to harm her cubs, just like a real lioness.) She smiled at me and that caused Tommen and Myrcella to turn around. They both yelled “Joffrey!” before they jumped out of their chairs and ran towards me. I hugged them both before herding them both back towards the table and then sitting down myself.

“What was that explosion earlier?” Myrcella asked, ever curious.

“There was just a fire in the city, darling, nothing you need to worry about.” Cersei interceded.

“But the fire was green!” Tommen exclaimed, seemingly excited by the prospect of green flames.

“Someone, we don’t know who yet, put wildfire across the city, when your uncle Tyrion’s men were digging away at parts of the city to rebuild it the wildfire was disturbed and it exploded.” I explained. Cersei shot me a glance, she obviously was trying to shield them, but soon they would need to know these things, they’re in King’s Landing, they are the King’s siblings, they can’t stay innocent forever, they too must learn to play the Game of Thrones.

“Was anyone hurt?” Tommen asked.

“A lot of people died Tom.” I said in a melancholy tone.

“Oh.” He murmured. He was still as adverse to people being hurt as ever, even without the old Joffrey in his life.

“Don’t worry,” Cersei soothed, leaning over and rubbing his arm. “Your brother will catch who did this.

“Yes.” I said in quite a firm tone. “Yes I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a review please, I love hearing what you think. Good or bad, I will respond! Just please be respectful, unlike the guy who called me a cunt, don’t be like him :-)


	19. A Royal Inquest

“Silence for His Grace Joffrey of House Baratheon, the first of His name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!” Proclaimed the Royal Steward before I walked out onto the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor. I sighed apprehensively as I viewed the huge crowd who was here, waiting to discover who caused what had been creatively dubbed ‘the Great Fire of King’s Landing.

After the fire I had ordered a ‘full inquiry’ into the incident. I already knew what had happened but it sounded good and therefore it was done; I tasked Lord Tarly with heading the investigation and left him to it. He overtook the interrogations of the various members of the Alchemists’ Guild and whatever else he decided to look into. I wasn’t worried that he would find anything that I didn’t want him to and I was genuinely interested in seeing if he found anything I didn’t know.

Of course the people lapped it up and why wouldn’t they? They have a king that actually gives a shit that many of them died. I was surprised that they weren’t used to it already but I guess that spoke wonders of what they had experienced previously. It made my blood boil.

The crowd died down and the Steward stepped back to join the members of the Small Council, the Queen Mother (as was Cersei’s official title now, much to her chagrin, she had less power now after all. Though I still wouldn’t want to get on her bad side too much if I couldn’t hide behind my Kingly position.) Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella were also their, at my command - it was time for them to see what the life of a royal was like, as much as I wish I could shield them from the evil of King’s Landing.

I gathered my thoughts and began to talk to the gathered crowd of commoners and noblemen alike.

“A few months ago the greatest travesty to ever strike this fine city occurred. As Steward Tyrion’s men worked to improve the quality of living of King’s Landing one of their tools struck a barrel of wildfire. This caused the substance to ignite; immediately engulfing a large portion of the city to ignite in its demonic flame. If it were not for the work of the brave men and women, many of whom are here today, the destruction may have been much worse.

After the incident I ordered a full inquiry to determine just how something like this occurred, and yesterday my Master of Laws Lord Randyll Tarly gave me his findings on the matter. And this is why I called you all here today, so those who are responsible for such a cruel act, one that ruined the lives of thousands can be held fully responsible in front of those they wronged.

I shall now read the report compiled by Lord Tarly and his team.”

I unraveled the scroll handed to me by Lord Tarly and began reading.

“This inquiry - conducted at the behest of and with the full support of His Grace Joffrey Baratheon discovered that it was the Alchemists’ Guild that created the wildfire that lit aflame on the evening of the 15th day of the eighth moon of 299 AC. And after the interrogation of the members of the Guild, learned that the wildfire was brewed at the behest of King Aerys II. We discovered that the Mad King ordered the substance to be created and put in locations around the city so that if there was ever a time that the city should fall it could be burned to the ground. It is the findings of this inquiry that the destruction caused by the fire can be put mainly at the feet of the madness of the Targaryen family; specifically the Mad King Aerys II.

Moreover, this inquiry discovered that the Mad Targaryen himself ordered the ignition of the wildfire during the sack of King’s Landing and that the Chief Pyromancer (Wisdom Rossart) was on his way to do just that when Ser Jaime Lannister -who had heard the insane shouts of “burn them all!” by the King, slew the Pyromancer before he could carry out his task.

This was revealed by Ser Jaime himself, who felt responsible for the fire, due to not realising exactly what the Mad King meant before he killed him -the man who had sentenced millions of innocents to death- though it is the opinion of this inquiry that Ser Jaime Lannister should bare no blame for what occurred. If anything he should be commended; if the Mad King had gotten his way then each barrel of wildfire would have been lit, rather than the fraction which exploded, causing the Great Fire.

This inquiry found that in total seven hundred and twenty three barrels of wildfire were hidden around the city. Each of these barrels have now been destroyed, under the supervision of myself Lord Randyll Tarly. Though we unfortunately cannot be sure that we have found all of the barrels and ask the people of the city to report anything suspicious to the City Watch immediately.

This inquiry discovered that only the Mad King and members of the Alchemists’ Guild knew of this plot in enough detail to have been able to prevent it. Though the ring leaders of the plot (King Aerys II and the Chief Pyromancer) are deceased, it has been determined that all in all thirty six other members of the Guild knew of the plot in the detail needed to have prevented its occurrence. Of those only nine are alive at this present time. These men are currently being held in the Black Cells awaiting the King’s Justice.

In conclusion, this inquiry finds that the people responsible for the Great Fire of King’s Landing were: King Aerys II of House Targaryen, the Chief Pyromancer of the Alchemists’ Guild and thirty six other members of this Guild. Although twenty seven of these people have died, the following men still live and shoulder responsibility for the incident:

Chief Pyromancer Brackwell

Wisdom Spenler

Wisdom Chapmyre

Wisdom Kannor

Wisdom Krey

Wisom Thaller

Wisdom Flaur

Wisdom Sentel

Wisdom Graen

These are the findings of this inquiry into the Great Fire of King’s Landing. It was conducted as previously stated at the behest of His Grace Joffrey Baratheon and was conducted chiefly by myself, His Grace’s Master of Laws, Lord Randyll Tarly.”

I rolled the scroll of parchment back up and gave it back to Lord Tarly.

“I have decided that the findings of the inquiry are trial enough for this men and that a formal trial is not necessary. I Joffrey of the House Baratheon, the first of my name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do find all thirty eight people listed by Lord Randyll guilty of murder. I hereby sentence all of the living men to a life servitude, defending this realm with the Night’s Watch.”

The crowd jeered slightly, obviously expecting blood to be spilt.

“While they are guilty of not reporting this crime and some of being involved somewhat I do not judge it serious enough for the death penalty.”

Furthermore, men who know how to create wildfire would be a useful asset to the Night’s Watch when the long night comes.

“Moreover, the Alchemists’ Guild is hereby officially outlawed and the production of wildfire unless ordered by the King himself is also banned.” I ordered. To a loud cheer from the crowd.

“That is all, may the Seven bless you all.”


	20. Outnumbered

“You monstrous freak! You are no son of mine!” He yelled, the antler crown upon his head.

“Father no! I’m sorry!” I wailed, tears pouring down my cheek.

“He was my brothers son and you murdered him in cold blood! Why you incestuous bastard? He was but a child!” He roared.

“Father, please you don’t understand!” I yelled. “Mother, please tell him!” I pleaded hopelessly but she just stood there hatred in her eyes. “You disgust me.” She said viciously and her words struck me like a ton of bricks and I sobbed some more.

The reincarnated Robert Baratheon strode towards me and I moved back as far as I dared, praying to the Old Gods and the New and the thousands from my previous life that somehow this ordeal would end without my death.

But it was not to be as my father strolled towards me; his war-hammer in hand. “Die bastard!” He roared and swung the huge metal death stick. It struck straight in my stomach and I went flying off the edge of the tower and I felt myself falling, somehow not dead already.

And I fell, and fell and fell.

And then I awoke in a cold sweat. The light outside my window telling me it was day. I sighed as I glanced around the room, every now and then I would have this recurring nightmare. My dead father ‘taking revenge’ for his brother and my mother staring at me with cold contempt in her eyes. Every time I had it I questioned whether or not killing Bran was the right decision and every time I decided it was. I knew what was coming - I didn’t need him and yet he could have destroyed me. But even still it nagged at me.

Sighing yet again I stared into empty space for a good ten minutes until there was a knock on the door and one of the servant girls entered and headed through the door to draw me my daily bath. Hygiene was very important, especially when you live in this filthy shit hole.

I placed a few silver stags on the table, something I do every day before heading instead to the bathroom and excusing her.

After I had finished bathing I re-clothed and headed to my office. I was working on securing more trade with the people of the Free Cities and also the Iron Islands. After the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion father had continued the Westerosi policy of ignoring the Iron Islands. I, on the other hand, thought this stupid. Now that a more friendly House had been installed as Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands (Lord Rodrik Harlow has ditched the title of ‘Lord Reaper’ soon after the war, in an effort -I assume- to abandon the negative connotations that name carries and to distance themselves from the troubled past of the islands.) I decided to try and improve the still somewhat frosty relations between the Crown and the Iron Islands. In that spirit I had sent a raven to Lord Rodrik with an offer. Everyone knows that the Iron Islands make the best ships and so I had offered Lord Rodrik a monopoly in ship production for the Royal Fleet. I had had plans for an expansion of the fleet for a while and now with the increased tensions with the Reach I thought now was the best time. In return I offered Lord Rodrik weapons and armour from the capital, as well as an exception from the food tax. When I arrived at my office I found a raven with the seal of House Harlow on it, within was a letter accepting my offer.

I had just penned my reply asking for the immediate production of 20 ships, 10 for trade 7 galleys and 3 warships when the door burst open and a servant entered. “Your Grace, the Small Council has been called by Grand Maester Pycelle!” He exclaimed. I thanked him and headed off to the Small Council chambers, fearing the worst. The only reason Pycelle would convene the Council is if he has received an urgent letter and the only thing I could think off currently that would require such a letter is if Renly had instigated an attack.

As I entered the chambers my worst fears had all but been confirmed as I observed the grim faces of the Small Council, especially on Tyrion’s. After we were all seated Grand Maester Pycelle spoke.

“Your Grace, I have just received this letter from Lord Tywin Lannister.” He then continued to hand me the letter in a shaky hand. The seal was already broken I unravelled it and began to read.

Your Grace, Joffrey Baratheon King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

Lord Renly Baratheon has invaded the Westerlands with a force of approximately 100,000 men and is pushing towards Casterly Rock. Already, he has taken Crakehall. Your Grace, I write to request your aid in this conflict not only upon your oath sworn as Protector of the Realm but upon the blood we share.

Moreover, Lord Renly has sent a raven proclaiming that he is the true King of the Seven Kingdoms and that you are an illegitimate, incompetent King. Though I again declare allegiance to you, Your Grace, the one true King.

Signed,

Tywin Lannister, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Warden of the West.

After reading I sighed, something I had been doing a lot recently. Then I turned to Lord Varys and asked “why did I not here of this impending attack until now? You are my Master of Whispers, you should have known of this before, unless you did and refrained from informing me?” Something that is entirely possible, I still do not trust him fully.

“I would never do that, Your Grace. Unfortunately it seems my Little Birds have not had much success infiltrating the pretender Baratheon’s camp. I will increase my efforts.” He simpered.

After berating Lord Varys I turned to Stannis.

“Why would he attack the Lannisters?” I asked. “He has 100,000 men, why not go straight for King’s Landing?”

“Well the Lannisters were likely to join the war anyway, I assume he thought that it would be best to try and eliminate them as soon as possible.” He replied, stroking his beard.

I nodded at the explanation before once again facing Pycelle. “I want ravens sent to every Lord Paramount asking them to call their banners, and to re-declare their allegiance to me. Once a positive response is received order them to assemble at the Crag” He nodded his head in understanding. Then to Tyrion I ordered, “Steward Tyrion I ask you to work on improving the cities defenses, it is best to prepare for the worst case scenario.” He also nodded.

“Lord Wylde prepare the Royal Fleet.” I dictated.

“Lord Stannis, assemble an army, tell them about what has happened, promise them honour, respect, money and even a knighthood if they succeed. Ser Barristan, you and Lord Randyll along with the rest of the Kingsguard and some good men from the City Watch will train them. We will leave for the Crag as soon as we know who will be meeting us their.”

I received a chorus of “Yes, Your Grace,” before I decided to move on.

“Speaking of which, who can we expect to honour their oaths?” I asked. It was Uncle Tyrion who answered.

“The only definitive apart from the Houses of the Crownlands are the Lannisters, Your Grace. They would likely have joined anyway but since they have been attacked they are already on your side. It is possible that due to the warming tensions the Iron Islands will join, however at the same time, they enjoy their isolation. The Martell’s will want nothing to do with a war aiding the Lannisters but equally they will not want to install another Baratheon, so they will remain neutral. The Reach are on the side of Renly, apart from Lord Tarly and any other houses he may be able to draw to our side.”

Here he looked at the Lord of Horn Hill, who glanced at me and nodded his affirmative.

“The Vale will absolutely not join, the Lady Arryn despises you due to what you did to Lord Baelish, and unless the Knights of the Vale overthrow her, the armies of the Vale will stay within the Eyrie. The fate of the Riverlands depends on the action Lord Stark will take, and though he is currently not your biggest fan, his esteemed honour may win out, if he marches so too will the army of the Trout.”

“So in total,” I summarised. “The only certain men we have are the men of the Crownlands and the Westerlands. And even then, most of the Crownlands still hold sympathies to the Targaryens and so only around a quarter of them will send men, so around 5,000-8,000 men from their and then around 30,000 Westerland men. So at this current time we have around about 37,000 men compared to the 100,000 rebel army.”

Tyrion summed it up perfectly: “fuck”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh Joffrey’s in trouble. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. As always leave a review, let me know what you thought. Also I want your opinion on an idea that’s been floating around my head. I know that this is a Game of Thrones fanfiction but I was wondering about what you would think of a Harry Potter story. I asked the people on my FanFiction.Net page and they seemed to like the idea so I posted the first chapter, if you want the same here tell me and I’ll post it and all subsequent chapters.


	21. Duty-bound

Lord Eddard Stark was concerned. He and around 30,000 men had assembled at Moat Cailin. It was quite a sight to behold, only the broken towers of the once magnificent stronghold ruined the glory of it. The Northern army assembled, it had taken three and a half moons to bring it all together. From every corner of the vast Northern region men had travelled to the keep, which today even with its many ruined towers would be near impossible to take if manned. His concern however was at why he had called his banners and brought them here in the first place. It would seem, that for the third time as Warden of the North, he would be marching his army south. To war.

He had received a letter around four moons ago:

Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Paramount of the North, Warden of the North.

On behalf of His Grace, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I request, in light of recent events, that you repledge your allegiance to His Grace, Joffrey Baratheon and declare him the one true King.

Signed,

Grand Maester Pycelle.

He wrote back repledging his loyalty, after returning to Winterfell and having to hear Sansa yelling at him for weeks on end about how he had overreacted, he realised he probably had done just that. But when he had learned what Joffrey had done to his daughter, he had seen red. She had cried for days after, at first he had thought it was at what Joffrey had done but when she started screaming at him he realised it was because he had dragged her away from him. It was strange, he thought, he had hurt her and yet she still wanted to be with him. Nevertheless after a while she stopped crying and while their relationship wasn’t yet the same, progress had been made. She had also continued everyday life again, though he could tell she wasn’t quite over her love for Joffrey.

Another reason he wanted to help Joffrey was because quite frankly he didn’t want Renly as king. After spending the time on the Small Council with him he had seen that he truly didn’t really care about doing his job. And his honour wouldn’t really allow rebellion. Robert’s was different; his family had been slaughtered, but Joffrey had done quite a lot of good: King’s Landing was the best it had been in centuries, well it was until it blew up, and he hoped that soon this prosperity would move outside the Capital’s walls. Eddard bemoaned the raised taxes though, they had hit the North quite hard, damaging their preparations for winter; a problem he was trying to find a solution to...

After he had sent the letter, a few weeks later another one arrived this one written by the King himself.

Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Paramount of the North, Warden of the North.

I thank you for your loyalty, especially given my own unloyalty towards Sansa, I hope she is well. I ask you to raise your banners and march to the Crag, where we can fight my usurper Uncle together, as Baratheons and Starks should.

Signed,

Joffrey of the House Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

When he had received the letter he had sent a raven back himself with a message of understanding and had then done as he was asked. He refrained from telling them why he had done so; knowing that if he had some like the Umbers and Karstarks may have refused, considering what Joffrey had done to Sansa. They were angry enough when they had found out, Greatjon himself threatening to march to King’s Landing to confront the King, luckily he managed to put a stop to that. Hopefully, he thought, I can bring forth calmer heads when I tell them in person.

And that was what he was about to do, he had called all of the Lords -and Lady in the case of the Mormonts- into his tent, ready to tell them why they were here, and where they were going.

“Lords and Ladies!” He called out, stopping the rather rambustious chatter that had been taking place.

“I thank you for coming here, especially given the lack of explanation.” He said. “I will give you one now - a few moons ago I received a raven from King Joffrey asking me to call my banners and head south to join his gathering army, to fight his rebelling uncle, Lord-”

He had not even finished speaking when Lord ‘Greatjon’ Umber shouted “You have to be fucking kidding me Ned! Why are we fighting for that prick after he disrespected the North and Lady Sansa!”

There was a large shout of ‘here here’ after Greatjon had finished. So much for calmer heads prevailing.

“Lord Umber.” He said sternly, “while it is true that His Grace, was unloyal to my daughter it is quite hypocritical for all of you to be using that against him, many of you have a number of bastards, some of you have had bastards born after your marriage! I myself feel as if I overreacted somewhat, and Lady Sansa herself hounded me over leaving, she has forgiven the King and so should we! May I also remind you that we are honour-bound to come to his aid.”

The Greatjon reluctantly nodded after Eddard finished. No one else spoke up.

The Stark Lord sighed, “you may think that it is wrong to do this and see it as helping someone who has wronged the North however my daughter urged me to go, if she is happy to help him then we should be too, he is our king after all, and I think we can all agree he has been much better than what Renly would be.”

The Northern lords nodded, Renly’s reputation had travelled North also.

“Are there any objections to marching south in aid of our king?” He asked.

There were no objections...

POV Change

I walked into the throne room, told the gathered court -a court that was significantly smaller than usual as many of the men were gathered outside, preparing to ride off- that I was going and that Tyrion would rule while I was gone, and then I walked out.

I breathed heavily as I stood in my chambers, my hands wet with sweat. While I knew I was capable, something I had learnt during my lessons with Ser Barristan was that nothing truly prepared you for war and for a real battle, and quite frankly I was petrified. I was defeated in single combat in the tourney. This is war for Christ sake. I didn’t want to die, I still had loads to do.

My musings were broken by a knock at the door; uncle Tyrion entered and bowed. “You asked to see me, Your Grace?” He queried.

“You know you don’t have to bother with all that in private uncle.” I said for the thousandth time.

“Well I choose to ignore you.” He said, a small smile on his face.

“Isn’t that akin to treason?” I asked

“Well Cersei would be glad I’m gone, she’d be proud that you did it as well, all her dreams would have become true.” He replied. “Now, why did you ask me here?”

“While I’m gone I want you to keep an eye on Lord Varys. I still have trouble believing that he couldn’t get into Renly’s camp, his spiders can get anywhere.”

“Consider it done, I was thinking the same.” He said in response.

We remained in silence for a few moments before he spoke up again. “You’re going to be ok.” He said softly.

I looked at him with a questioning look, a feeble attempt to stop him thinking I was worried.

He chuckled before speaking. “You may have mastered the skill of pulling the strings in this shitty city and making people think what you want them to think but I know you well enough to know you’re worried about something, and considering you’re about to march off to war I gather that’s what you’re worried about. I’m no warrior but I know that it’d be foolish not to be scared, fear makes you work harder to save your life, being fearless makes you complacent, and complacency leads to death.”

I knelt down and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you uncle.” I muttered before standing up.

“You better go,” he said. “You’ve got a war to win.”


End file.
